


A cursed world

by Ksfly180



Series: The Cursed Walkers [1]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Multi, Survival Horror, Walkers (Walking Dead)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-04-23 21:45:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 45
Words: 74,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19159594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ksfly180/pseuds/Ksfly180
Summary: Trying to survive the zombies will be the least of their worries.  For Charlie, this whole mess has been one insane nightmare.  Her bus overrun with the dead and her hiding several kids on the roof.  She's just doing the best she can in the situation she's in.  She's not sure if it's wise to trust the two men that help them.  But at this point she doesn't have much choice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For some reason this story wrote itself in my head and wouldn't go away so I thought y'all might like it.

Chapter 1

 

The bus meandered slowly down the road.  It's mostly clear, if you ignore the abandoned vehicles and an overturned fire truck.  The storefronts are broken open, long since pillaged during the riots.  There are downed power lines in the road.  But that's not a problem now because power has been out for two weeks.

 

That's why we're leaving the city.  Or rather that's one of the reasons.  You see, without power it's difficult to cook food or boil water.  You can start fires but that's dangerous.  Either because you have to light them outside or because the smoke attracts attention.

 

When this whole mess happened, we didn't know what to do.  No one really understood how bad this would get.  Our neighborhood was being evacuated to another point of the city.  The military was shuttling people to a safe zone.  Though they were strict on what you could bring with you.

 

Dad didn't trust them.  He felt that we would be in more danger in some military tent city than if we take care of our own.  So dad insisted that we head to church.  He insisted that we would be safer with people we trusted.  So he called the other men from church, had them meet us there with guns and supplies.  It worked for a time.  

 

We kept the children together in the nursery.  Since the nursery rooms are both upstairs and in the center of the building it gave added protection.  We had a rotation of the young mothers, older teenage girls, and elder women to watch them.  

 

The men took positions on the ground floor keeping watch.  I guess it was decided that the women couldn't handle dealing with the Cursed so we were told to stay out of it.  But more and more Cursed were showing up, scratching at the doors and windows.  And the gunshots just seemed to draw more.  

 

Then the bombs fell.  The blasts shaking the city and knocking out the power.  We watched in horror from the second story windows as planes flew past and explosions erupted throughout the city.  It was too horrible to comprehend and even days later we were still in shock. 

 

But we made due.  We cooked food over an open fire in the back courtyard where the kids used to play.  And we hunkered down in the hopes that help would come.  It didn't take long to understand that there would be no help, no rescue, because the apocalypse has come.  It was a bitter realization.

 

Things got stressful as our supplies dwindled.  There were arguments about what should be done, who should be risked.  Some of the men, taking a few of the older teen boys, left to find more food.  They were supposed to come back with enough supplies to keep us safe.  

 

Ten guys left one morning, only one returned.  Jeremy Watson, a fifteen year old who won awards the past three years for running track.  He was covered in bites and blood, screaming and crying about the Cursed eating the others alive.

 

He was patched up with our small amount of bandages and left to sleep off the shock.  It was a stupid mistake.  It never should've happened.  But we didn't fully understand what the Cursed were or how they were made and no one would condone the murder of an innocent boy.

 

Some of the adults muttered about the Cursed, that their disease is spread by bites.  But it was decided that since he came back alive then he would be fine.  After all, why would God allow one of his faithful to become one of the damned?

 

It didn't matter what we thought.  He turned in the night and killed.  Three were dead before anyone knew what was happening.  Then there was screaming and two of the ones he killed got up with him and attacked.  I was upstairs with the kids and several women but we all woke to the screams.

 

Several people were bitten.  And fear seemed to trump decency this time because several of the men with guns turned on the bitten.  I only know that because my brother Shane told me.  He had been there, standing at dad's side, when dad and the others opened fire.  He shook when he told me that they screamed and begged.

 

But it was hushed up so that the ones upstairs, women and children, wouldn't panic.  We would mourn but they didn't want anyone blaming them.  So it was kept quiet.  At least until Shane told me.  But I didn't tell the others.  Because it would only create panic.

 

Unfortunately, that incident lost us half of our men.  The remainder trying to maintain control of a group that had far too many small children who were growing restless with being kept inside.  And with little to no food, the decision was made to leave.  So one of the guys grabbed a school bus that was abandoned down the street and we loaded up.

 

The drive hasn't been too bad so far.  It's hot and we can't go fast enough to gain anything resembling a breeze.  The kids are restless and hot, whining even.  And the adults are tired and stressed, miserable really.  But at least we're leaving the city now.  Hopefully we'll get somewhere safe soon.

 

I glance up at the front where dad and Shane are sitting, guns in hand and eyes watchful.  The front of the bus is quiet, tense.  While the middle and back of the bus is louder.  Babies crying because the heat is making them miserable, kids complaining louder than is safe.  And women, from teens to elders, all doing our best to shush them.

 

There's a noise ahead, something indistinguishable but noticeable.  The bus pulls up to the intersection slowly.  But then there's sounds of alarm and dismay.  The bus jumps, trying to speed up.

 

I look out the window and all I see are Cursed.  Hundreds of them!  All around us, crowding us.  The bus rocks, people are screaming.

 

Gunshots sound.  Orders are barked out.  Screaming and crying fills the interior.   The bus rocks harder.  We're tilting... The left side rising.

 

Screams get louder.  Panic sets in as people are pushing against each other.  We tilt further, up on two wheels, sliding to the right.  

 

The bus falls onto its side.  Bodies fall on others.  Screaming... shouting... pain!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

I wake with a pounding head.  There are screams everywhere.  There's a horrible smell, like rotten meat, that's chokingly thick. A heavy weight is pushing me down.  I blink up to see what's happening.

 

The first thing I realize is there is a person on top of me.  It's Mrs. Molly.  She's a mother of five teens, all boys, with long brown hair pulled up in a ponytail.  She's heavy, more because shes unconscious but it's a struggle to push her off.  

 

Beside us is Mrs. Caroline, a young mother of three babies under four.  The youngest is bundled against her chest, squirming and crying softly.  The other two are pushing at her, calling 'momma' over and over again.  Then I notice her head tilted oddly, her blue eyes glazed over... She's dead.

 

That hits like a bucket of cold water.  Then I notice the sounds again.  The screams are alone now, no more gunshots.  I shift up to look around.  It's like something out of a horror show.

 

The Cursed have forced their way onto the bus and overwhelmed the guys at the front.  And they're eating them.  Some are still fighting.  Their weopens nothing more than bats or knives which don't seem to be doing much good.

 

I look back to the back of the bus and it's worse.  Someone must've opened the back door.  No doubt they were trying to escape.  But the Cursed were too numerous and overwhelmed the doorway.  Young teens, kids, and the few mothers who ran to their rescue are all being torn apart, eaten alive.  I gag, my stomach rolls uncomfortably.

 

Then I see little Sarah.  She's only three years old with soft brown curls and dark chocolate eyes.  She's quiet, staring horrified at where a Cursed is eating her six year old sister Ashley.  Their matching yellow dresses now look nothing alike.  That may be more because Ashleys is bloody and torn. 

 

I lunge around the seat to snatch her up, pulling her back to my hiding spot.  Then I look around again for others.  There are too many bodies and too many Cursed.  There's blood everywhere and so much screaming.

 

There's Micah, a five year old blue eyed blond with his face buried in his jean clad knees.  I have to move past a Cursed to reach him but I grab him too.  He screams, lashing out, but goes quiet when I sooth him.  Although the quiet is probably more from shock.  

 

I look around again.  This time I see Mrs. Kensley, another young mother with short blond hair and big brown eyes.  She's screaming as one of the Cursed pulls her insides out, eating it... eating her.  Then I see the baby, Kendall, still in the Moses basket beside her. 

 

She's harder to get to.  I can't risk going around the seats, there's too many Cursed.  So I climb onto the seat, which is technically the middle isle area.  I crawl back the three seats it takes to reach them.  The Cursed is distracted enough eating her that I slip down and grab baby Kendall without it noticing.

 

Another Cursed stumbles closer.  I hurry to climb back, hopeful it won't follow.  I hear Mrs. Kensley screaming, loud enough to hurt my ears and drown out all other sounds.  But at least I got the baby.  The scream cuts off abruptly.

 

Hands grab my arms.  I almost scream, but thankfully it's just Shane.  He's there, helping me down.  His blue eyes are blown wide and his blond hair has blood in it.  But he stays calm as he tells me we have to get out.  

 

I look around again.  Both ends of the bus are overrun and soon the Cursed will reach us.  We have to find another way.  There's a hatch on the wall, what was the bus roof.  But there's a lot of moaning and banging outside of the bus so I don't think that's safe.

 

Shane shakes my shoulder, pointing up.  What was the left side of the bus is now the top.  And one of the windows is an emergency one, a red bar at its base.   I pass the baby to him and climb up until I can reach the window.  Then I pull the red bar and push the window up and out.

 

I climb up enough to glance out.  It's safe enough and I don't think the Cursed can climb.  So I climb back down.  Shane passes me Micah first.  He's trembling and crying but silent.  So I pull him close and climb back up with him.  

 

He almost doesn't want to let go, it takes a minute that we don't have.  But he does let go and climb out.  I whisper shout for him to lay down and stay quiet.  He doesn't respond but I trust that he heard.  

 

I only climb down halfway when Shane passes me Sarah and Abigale, Mrs. Caroline's oldest.  It's a struggle with two but I understand that we're short on time so I push them both up and out.

 

I reach down and Shane passes me Evelyn, Mrs. Carolina's middle girl.  I quickly pass her up.  Now the only ones left are Kendall and Imogene, Mrs. Caroline's three month old.  Shane is still holding Kendall, looking nervously around the edge of the seat.  And Imogene is still bundled in the wrap on Mrs. Caroline's chest.  

 

I climb all the way down and pull Imogene out of the wrap.  I have to be careful so she doesn't cry but I manage it quick enough.  Then something moves.  Mrs. Molly moans, then screams.

 

Shane is there trying to shush her but she's pushing past him, knocking him into me.  She doesn't get past the seat when two Cursed lunge at her.  She turns, screaming and scratching at us.  Her nails scrape down my bare leg.

 

It's Shane who kicks her away.  Then he's tugging at my arm, demanding that I get up.  I hurry with Imogene held close when he pushes Kendall into my arms and shoves me behind him.  

 

That's when I see the Cursed.  More and more of them are coming around the seat.  He's swinging a bat at them but there really isn't room, he can't get enough momentum for it to work.  I try to grab his shoulder but he just yells for me to go, to get out.

 

I climb.  With two babies held in one arm and tears blinding me, I climb.  I hear his angry shouts, the way he taunts them to keep their attention.  I choke back a sob when he starts screaming for me to hurry.

 

There's a breeze now.  There wasn't before.  It's not much of a breeze.  The air is too stale and still too hot.  But the wind is blowing enough that strands of my hair dance in the wind.  

 

I'm blinded with tears and I'm shaking so much that I worry I'll drop the babies.  But at least I'm out.  I'm on the roof, what was the left side.  And through the emergency window I can hear the screams and cries of the others as they die.  

 

I gasp and choke and try so hard to calm down before the kids start cying.  I have to stay calm, for them.  I have to protect them.  I have to keep them safe.  But how?


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

The screams have stopped though the bus still rocks with the Cursed within.  The sounds are horrible; slurping, crunching, wet tearing.  It's enough to make you sick.  But they don't seem to notice us up here so for now we're safe.

 

I saw a truck drive down a few streets away.  I tried to wave to them but even if they saw me I doubt they would come here.  Not that I blame them.  I wouldn't risk this madness for a stranger.  So I can't blame them for not coming.

 

I look around again.  Most of the Cursed are inside the bus.  There are two on the right side, what was the roof.  And that's also where our luggage and supplies were held.  There aren't any weopens, those were all kept on the bus.  But I see my backpack which has my hairbrush in the side pocket.  

 

An idea forms.  It's not a good idea.  In fact, it's insane.  And horrible... utterly horrible.  But if it works...

 

I remember what my dad used to say about hunting.  Granted those talks were aimed at my brother Shane but still.  I remember what he said about scents and hunting and now it makes me think.

 

The Cursed don't attack each other, why?  How do they know who to go after?  It's not just sounds.  Even if you're quiet they will still get you.  So they must hunt by smell, right?  So how do you hide from a creature that hunts by smell?

 

It'll be a risk.  But at this point anything is a risk.  And can I afford to not take the risk?  I have six kids looking to me to keep them safe.  Two of them are babies, one three months while the other is five.  They will get hungry soon.  And that means they will cry.

 

There are two Cursed by our luggage.  One is female with half of her scalp missing, the other half is stringy brown hair.  Her dress is torn off one shoulder but the exposed breast is missing, eaten probably by one of the others.  The other is a male with a black t shirt torn open in the front.  His hollowed out belly is exposed above his horribly stained jean pants.  

 

Both are nearby, scratching at the roof as if they can claw their way in.  And beyond and around them is all of our luggage.  The other Cursed are inside the bus and not paying us any attention.

 

If I'm fast enough... I have to risk it.  I have to take the chance while the majority of them are still distracted.  I take a deep breath.

 

I whisper to Micah what I'm about to do.  His eyes go wide and he looks like he's going to protest but he doesn't.  I lay the two babies side by side and tell him to watch them.

 

I slide carefully to the edge.  I'll be far too close the those two but it can't be helped really.  I take a breath and pray.  Then I push off and slide down the side.

 

My feet hit asphalt with a harsh slap that jars my legs.   I dive for my backpack, for the hairbrush in the side pocket.  It's just a hairbrush but it has a long sharp point on the end.  It's not sharp, and it's bright pink, but it should work... hopefully.

 

The two Cursed have turned.  Both are stumbling towards me.  I pull the hairbrush free and hold it up as if it was a knife.  God, I hope this works!

 

The man stumbles forward first.  I have a moment to notice his barely there beard.  I think that he may have been handsome when alive.  Then I lunge forward, stabbing the pointed end into his temple.

 

He falls sideways taking the brush with him.  I have a moment to panic.  A moment where I think I've really messed up.  But I shove the woman back, making her fall down.  Then I lunge at the man's body to pull free the brush.

 

It's stuck!  I tug and twist and tug again.  It comes free.  I turn back in time for the woman to be on top of me.  I fall backwards, she falls on top of me.  I strike upwards as she leans down.  The brush stabs into her eye.

 

There's a bird overhead.  It flies from the building next to us to fly across the street.  It doesn't caw, it just flies.  Perhaps it's escaping from a Cursed.  Or perhaps it's hunting for food.  Maybe it has a nest, a mate, an egg.

 

The woman is still.  Her blood, thick like chunky melted jello, leaks down my neck and chest.   She doesn't weigh as much as i would think.  She was short too, only my height of five foot two.  That's short for a woman.  Not that it matters.

 

I shift her to the side.  It's easier to move her than it was Mrs. Molly.  But then again Mrs. Molly was whole and larger.  This woman is tiny and half eaten.  

 

There are several throw blankets folded nearby.  They're not really folded anymore.  They were when we put them up here.  But now they're just pilled messy.  

 

I have an idea.  A horrible idea.  But the world isn't what it used to be.  And to stay alive you have to do things you don't want to.

 

The hairbrush is still in her eye.  I pull it loose.  It comes out easily.  Then I spread out two of the blankets beside the woman.

 

I don't want to, I really don't.  But I have to get the kids to safety.  I lift her dress, her stomach is flat and untouched.  So I take the brush and stab her.  The blow only worked because shes already partially eaten.

 

It takes several stabs, more than I bothered to count.  Then I set the brush down and dig my hands in.  It's horrible.  The smell is choking, all rotten meat.  Her insides are thick and squishy.  I pull handfuls out, throwing them onto the blankets.

 

I have to stop when I gag.  The smell, the feel, it's just too much.  I throw up.  Bile burns at the back of my throat as I choke up what little breakfast I had this morning.  But it's too late to stop now.

 

I shake it off and go back to rubbing her insides on the blankets.  The flesh is mushy and disgusting but effective.  As soon as the first blanket is done I toss it over my shoulders and start on the second.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

I end up with three blankets covered in the scent and rot of the Cursed.  Then I move a few suitcases to make something like a staircase.  And with a blanket pinned around my shoulders, I climb up the suitcases until I can reach the roof.

 

Sarah is closest, watching me with wide horrified eyes.  I whisper softly that I'm going to get them down and keep them safe.  They dont answer which is probably for the best.  Although when I reach for Sarah, she flinches back.

 

It takes a lot more talking than I'm comfortable with to convince her to come to me but eventually she does.  I pull her under my blanket, holding her close, as I climb back down.  

 

There are several more Cursed walking around but thankfully they don't pay us any attention.  The blanket seems to be working.  Plus I have blood smeared on my neck, face, and hair.  Still, I take care to move slowly and keep us covered as much as possible.  

 

Once on the ground I kneel next to one blanket.  Lifting it slowly I open mine and transfer Sarah to hide beneath the other.  She clings for a moment but let's go when I softly whisper, "You have to hide.  They won't see you as long as you're quiet."

 

She frowns, looking for a moment like she wants to argue.  But she lets go to slide under the other blanket.  I take care to ensure she's covered and still.  Then I look around slowly.  There's more of them now.  It looks like they're leaving the bus to fill the street.  That makes this more dangerous.

 

I move slowly back to my makeshift staircase.  The Cursed don't pay us any attention.  Most that have come out are moving out into the street.  All are covered in some manner of blood and gore.  Their movements somewhat sluggish, probably from gorging themselves on our friends and family.

 

The next I grab is Evelyn.  She crys softly but shushed quickly.  I get her under my blanket and climb down carefully.  Amazingly enough she stays quiet the whole way.  I slip her under the blanket with Sarah.  I suppose it helps them both to not be alone because she goes more easily than she came to me.

 

I go back for Abigale next.  I open the blanket and wave her closer.  She comes easily, having watched me closely when I took her sister.  I hide her under my own blanket and turn to climb down.  

 

Movement behind me makes me freeze.  One of the Cursed, a tall man with a bald head stands far too close.  I don't know what to do.  A part of me fears that my camouflage isn't working.  My body starts to shake badly enough that I slip down a step.

 

It happens so fast.  Abigale gives a startled cry.  The Cursed reaches for us both.  Then suddenly an arrow is sticking out of his head.  An actual arrow... sticking out of his forehead above his left eye.  He falls heavily to the ground.

 

I freeze.  Someone else is out here, but where?  Some of the Cursed wonder past as if confused by the sounds.  So I stay still and quiet and hold Abigale close.  

 

The moment stretches out forever, though I doubt it's more than two full minutes.  Then there is a sound from down the street, a car alarm sounds shrill.   And the Cursed turn at the sound to move towards it.

 

I breath a sigh of relief.  Thank God!  Then once they've cleared out some I finish climbing down with her.  She's shaking and smells strongly of urine but when I push her under the blanket she goes quietly.

 

I have to readjust the suitcases in order to climb again.  This time I take first Imogene, holding her close.  Then I pull Micah down with him still holding Kendall.  It's slightly more difficult with all three.  Mostly because Micah doesn't do too well holding the baby while climbing down.

 

She starts fussing on the second step so I reach down and pull her from him.  Then I carry both while he holds the blanket closed.  It's slow and awkward but somehow it works.  And we reach the blanket with the girls soon enough.

 

I look around again.  Most of the Cursed have wondered down the street, following the sound of the car alarm.  There are still some in the bus but they are too distracted by feeding to bother leaving.  But at least they aren't paying us any attention.

 

An engine rumbles down the street behind us.  A truck comes closer. I watch as it pulls up quickly, two tires coming up on the sidewalk.  I stare dumbly as the door pops open.  Two men jump out.

 

The first is a younger man with sun tanned skin.  His brown hair is shaved short and his blue eyes squint angrily as he looks around.  But the first thing I notice is the crossbow in his hands held up at the ready.  And I remember the Cursed that fell to an arrow.

 

The other reaches us first.  He is older than the first with short shaved head, skin only slightly paler than the other, and blue eyes with a hard glint.  He holds a long blade, a machete, in his right hand.  He smirks at me, probably amused by my shock. 

 

His voice is heavily accented with a southern drawl when he says, "Well, lookey what we got here, little brother.  Clever little thing, ain't she?"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

I almost panic.  Because I've seen men like them before.  Rarely, true, but I remember dad hurrying to shield me and lead me away.  He always said such men couldn't be trusted.  He said they are dangerous.  He said a lot of things I'd rather not remember.

 

But I also remember the arrow that saved us.  And I recognize the truck.  It's the one I saw pass earlier, several streets down.  They didn't have to come back.  They could've just forgotten us.  But instead they came back.  They came to help us.  So maybe they aren't so bad.

 

The older one leans down, lifting the edge of the blanket.  His face softens, his voice gentler, when he calls to them, "Lets get you little ones in the truck, how's that sound?"

 

There are several frightened nods and a few sounds that we can't really afford.  The younger guy releases an arrow.  One of the Cursed falls.  I urge them to follow.

 

The older one holds one end of the blanket as he leads the kids to the truck.  There's a motorcycle in the back as well as several bags.  But the area on this side of the bike is clear enough for the kids to fit.  He tosses the blanket back and lifts up Abigale first.

 

The side door for the truck is still open so I pass the two babies inside.  Kendall is fussing, sucking at her fist.  She's probably hungry.  And I don't have anything to feed her.  All of the baby bags are still on the bus.  I'll have to go back for them.

 

Hes passing Evelyn to the back of the truck when I turn.  The guy with the crossbow at their back.  I hurry back to the bus, stepping carefully into the open door.  It's difficult with the bus on its side but I manage.

 

There are several backpacks here in the very back.  I take care climbing over them to move around the seats.  There are several Cursed here still feeding on the corpses.  I move carefully past them. Thankfully the blanket is still working.

 

Fourth row from the back I find the first babybag.  I grab it up quickly.  The next three rows have several more.  I end up with nearly ten bags that are difficult to manuver but I manage.  And we need these supplies.  I head back the way I came.

 

Something catches my attention.  I'm not sure at first, if it's a movement or a sound.  Then I hear it again, a sniffle.  I look around as carefully as I can.  I don't see anyone.  And with how many of the Cursed were here I don't think anyone would survive.  But still I look.

 

There's a pile of bags almost stacked between two seats.  I wouldn't notice it except that it looks stacked and not fallen.  I take care to approach, moving around the Cursed that's feeding on an arm.

 

I shift away three bags before big brown eyes meet mine.  Emmett!  Little Emmett, two years old with a head full of dark blond curls.  He's alive!  He's alive and he was hidden beneath bags.  His mother must've done this.  Good God, we almost left him here!

 

I snatch him up, careful to motion for him to be quiet.  It's more difficult to leave this time.  But when I pass the last two rows I see two of the Cursed with arrows in their head.  The younger man is glaring angrily at me.  And past him I can see the older man in the driver's seat of the truck holding one of the babies.

 

I toss off the blanket, passing Emmett to the man.  He blinks surprised, letting out a soft, "Damn!"  Then he grabs Emmett and rushes back to the truck.  I climb back out of the bus and run to catch up.

 

He tosses the boy into the back.  So I throw all but one of the bags beside the kids.  Then I hurry to jump in the truck cab.  The man is holding Kendall but Imogene is still on the seat so I scoop her up.  

 

The other man is barely in the cab when the truck jerks forward to speed away.  I look back at the kids but theyre okay, all huddled down together.  So I shift Imogene to my lap and start shifting through the bag.  

 

First thing first, I take out the wipes and do my best to wipe off as much blood as I can.  That leads to a small pile that the younger man tosses out the window with a scoff.  Then I find the bottles, there are three, and the can of formula.  I measure out the scoops and add the water from the water bottle in the bag.

 

The first I press against Imogenes mouth, she turns to suckle.  The younger man beside me sets down his crossbow and lifts her from my lap, taking the bottle too.  I hesitate long enough to be sure he knows what he's doing then I leave him to it.

 

I take Kendall from the driver who passes her with a smirk.  She greedily drinks the moment the bottle is close enough.  It's a good thing I went back for the bags, and not just because of Emmett.  And I still can't believe that.  How in God's name did he survive in there?  Thank God he did but my God it is terrifying to think we almost left him.

 

The driver doesn't seem concerned that he just picked up strangers.  Of course, it's not like we're a danger to them.  But he seems to have a destination in mind.  So I don't feel bad about asking, "Where are you taking us?"

 

He smirks, "Does it really matter, Darlin'?"

 

"Yes," I reply.  "Where are you taking us? And my name is Charlie."

 

"Charlie?" He smirks.

 

I roll my eyes, "Charlene but I go by Charlie. Now where are we going?"

 

He laughs which does nothing for my calm.  But at least he answers, "There's a campground up by the quarry of 85.  That's where we're going."

 

A campground?  They have bags and there may have been a tent but it wouldn't be enough, not for all of us.  Not to mention how safe would it be?  Especially with so many kids.  But if I remember correctly...

 

I turn to the driver, "There's a RV seller on the way.  Can we go there?"

 

The younger snorts, shaking his head.  The older mocks, "You want me to swing by Micky-D's too?"

 

"If you can find one open than sure," I snap back, growing tired of feeling so tense.  But I should be nice to them, so I offer, "We have too many kids to fit in a tent.  And if a group, a mass of them, show up again an RV would offer some more protection than a tent."

 

He hums, "What will you give us for it?"

 

I frown at that.  What does he mean?  Is he a threat?  Should I not trust them?  Not like I have much choice, especially now.  I glance back at the kids huddled down in the back, scared silent.  Then I look down at the baby in my arms, falling asleep at now having a full belly.

 

I take a breath and ask, "What do you want?"

 

He hums, eyeing me out of the corner of his eye.  He seems to be weighing his answer.  His gaze flickers to the babies his brother and I hold to the kids in the back.  He frowns, shifting in discomfort.  Something making him uncomfortable.

 

He answers with a huff, "You'll be minding the kids, they are your responsibility, not ours."

 

I'm nodding along.  As if I wouldn't take care of them.  They are my family now.  Church family but still, I'm all they have and I intend to protect them to the best of my ability.

 

He continues in a tone, as if I'm arguing, "And you'll do the cooking.  Daryl and I can hunt just fine but you'll do the cooking and keep the place clean."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

The RV dealership is locked behind a tall wire gate.  It's full of RVs and trailers but no Cursed that I can see.  We pull up to to gate.  The younger brother, Daryl, passes Imogene to me and hops out with his crossbow.  He opens the gate and we drive in enough for him to close it before he hops on the tailgate.

 

The older man, who I still haven't gotten the name of, leaves with an order for us to stay put and quiet.  I tell him to check their storeroom for bottled water, they are always offering bottled water, as well as look for gas pumps because they usually have one.

 

He huffs and smirks and replies, "This ain't my first rodeo, Darlin', don't you worry about ol' Merle."

 

Merle?  That must be his name.  I watch them as they enter the glass doors and walk through the room.  This time the older one, Merle, has a shotgun while the other still has his crossbow.  They disappear down a hallway.  

 

Both of the babies are asleep so I lay them on the seat beside me. Then I slip out to check on the kids in the back.  They are still wide eyed, looking around confused, but they haven't moved or made a sound.  I open one of the bags, a big red and pink one that was Mrs. Caroline's.  And just as I expected, there are snacks within.

 

I open the two boxes of fish shaped crackers and offer them to the kids to share.  Abigale and Evelyn both pick from one while Micah, Emmett, and Sarah pick from the other.  There are two bottles of water so I open them both and remind the kids to share.  

 

I turn in time for the two men to come strolling out, each carrying two cases of bottled water.  After they put those on the tailgate, Merle takes a set of keys from his pocket, shaking them.  I ask which one it goes too and he points to a big black and grey thing, the same size as a school bus.  

 

He motions for us to follow so I pull the kids down, passing a bag to each of them and carrying the extras.  The I try to grab both babies.  The younger man, Daryl, is there taking Kendall this time.  

 

I follow the group to the third RV in line.  The door is already open and the kids are inside.  Merle is leaning against the counter proudly, offering a smug, "Nice digs, ain't it, Darlin'?"

 

The first thing you see is the kitchen.  It is all brown and white tile with a narrow pantry, stainless steel fridge and three cabinets with a small one well sink and four eyed stove over a small oven.  It looks modern and nice, something mother would exclaim over.

 

To the right is a kitchen table with bench seats on either side, enough for four adults.  Across from that is a couch made of a pale blue and white checkered fabric.  Beyond both of those are two seats, the driver's and passengers, which swirl around.  

 

To the left is a hallway with two bunks on the left and a shower and toilet on the right with a sink between.  Beyond that is a large bed that takes up the end of the RV.  Back closer, before the bunk beds, is a brown leather recliner.  Overall, it's amazing.

 

I nod and offer a soft thank you.  He puffs up at that but doesn't reply.  I motion for the kids to climb onto the kitchen bench seats.  They hurry to comply.  They're probably this obedient because of the shock of today.  No doubt soon their normal attitudes will surface.

 

I look around again and can't help but notice that for as nice as the RV is it doesn't have much.  I set down the bags on the couch before turning back to the men.  They're both looking back at me.  I can't really decipher the looks but they make me feel shy.

 

I shake it off, there's still stuff we need.  Taking a breath I breach the topic, "There should be a store here too.  It's geared towards RV and camper owners so it should have plenty of stuff we need."

 

Merle lets loose a chuckle and taunts, "What'll you trade for it, Darlin'?"

 

I frown, I don't have anything to trade.  Plus, it's not like the supplies are just for us.  They'll be using them too.  And is this going to become the norm?  Am I going to have to trade for everything?   I'm already tired of these games. 

 

"What do you want?" I ask.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

Apparently now I have to do laundry.  Somehow I think they're getting the better end of this deal.  They even grab an RV for themselves.  So, we drive across the lot to the store with two RVs and their truck hitched to the back of theirs.  

 

The store has long metal shutters drawn down but Merle does something that makes it so he can pull them down.  I don't question how he knows how to do that, I don't want to know.  I just warn the kids to be quiet as I follow the men inside.

 

I push two buggies at each of them with plenty of baskets in the first one.  Then I tell them, "How about you, Merle, go gather as much supplies from the camping area.  You know, knives, lanterns, anything we can use.  And, Daryl, you can go by the fishing and hunting supplies and gather everything there that could help us."

 

They both look over amused and slightly incredulous.  I give them the look momma used to give Shane when he complained about taking out the trash.  Mine probably isn't as good as hers but it seems to get the point across.  They share an amused look but both take the carts and head off.

 

I take two carts and the rest of the baskets with me and head to the food aisles.  I put all of the canned foods, every can that I find, in the baskets.  Then I grab some trash bags and toss in all of the banged items I can find.  One bag ends up with all of the rice.  Another contains every bag of dried beans I can find.  Several bags are filled with chips.  

 

I push those carts and bags to the front and grab more carts.  This time I gather all of the boxed items.  From cereal to crackers, from hamburger helper to boxed potatoes.  Then I take those carts back to the front.  

 

Merle is there now, leaning against two full carts while smoking a cigarette.  He grins, eyes going over the food already gathered.  He whistles, "Damn, Darlin', you're serious about this gatherin supplies thing, ain't ya?"

 

I frown as I answer, "Our survival depends on how well prepared we are so yes I'm serious about gathering everything we can when we can."

 

He grins smugly, "Yeah, you're a smart one, Darlin'."

 

I take two more carts with me to go over whatever else I missed, there wasn't much.  Then I go to the pharmacy area and grab all of the bandages and medicine I can find.  I fill garbage bag after garbage bag with everything on those five shelves.  

 

Then I head to the women's and babies aisle.  I fill bags with all of the pads, tampons, diapers, and wipes.  Then I fill another bag with baby medicine, pacifiers, and small toys that are on that aisle.  I hesitate over the last part of the aisle.  It's all pregnancy tests and condoms and creams.  In the end I decide it's better to have and not need than need and not have.

 

I drag all of that to the front.  Merle and Daryl are moving the bags onto the RVs.  I grab two more carts and do another rushed walk through.  This time I go to the clothes area and grab anything that looks like it might work now or in the near future.  With several small children we will go through clothes quickly so I gather a lot.

 

I drop those at the front before grabbing two more carts and going further back.  This time I grab blankets, sheet sets, and every home odd and end that we may need.  This makes me remember that to cook I'll need pots and pans so I go down those aisles grabbing everything I can.  

 

I don't need twenty pizza pans but I do take the five cast iron skillets that are there.  And I grab all of the silverware and several sets of dishes.  By the time I get back to the front Merle is muttering about packrat women and their hoarding tendencies.  

 

I just grab the last three carts and set off again to see what else we need.  I end up gathering toddler potty chairs as well as several sets of rain boots.  I drop that at the front and head to the other side of the store.

 

For all that they went over this area they didn't grab everything.  I grab all of the citronella candles and bug spray as well as all of the sun block that I can find.  Then I find some camping toilets so I grab a few of them.  They look like the one my grandmother had in her bedroom after her stroke.

 

I grab shower curtains and water filters and anything else I can find.  By the time I get to the front Merle is grumbling, "Maybe we should just move into the store since we're taking everything with us."  

I snap back, "You'll be thanking me later when we don't have to nearly get killed for supplies."

 

Merle scoffs but laughs it off with a shaking head.  I start grabbing bags to drag onto the RVs.  It looks like they've been tossing the stuff on the bed in the back.  It's filled up fast and spilled onto the bunk beds and down the hall.  And that is just in this RV.  Daryl has been filling up the other one.

 

I grab some of the breakfast bars from a nearby bag.  The kids are still sitting there quietly so I pass out the breakfast bars to them.  Then I go back to drag more supplies into the RV.  This time I pass Daryl who is muttering under his breath but doesn't seem really bothered.

 

It takes hours to get it loaded and by that point it's too late to head out according to them so we settle into the RVs.  They take one, with a reminder to cook dinner for all of their hard work, and we get the other.

 

I end up cooking rice with canned chicken breast baked with lemon juice.  It turns out alright.  Plus I cook two cans of green beans, mashed potatoes, and mix up a batch of cheddar biscutes.  

 

Merle smiles smugly when I pass him a plate.  He and Daryl, who offers a quiet thanks, take their plates with them to their RV.  The kids seem to wake up more with supper.  There's gigging and complaints.  But at least theyre now acting more like themselves.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

I stayed awake the whole night shifting supplies around.  I just couldn't seem to settle. The kids fell asleep easily enough but I just felt too restless. So I figured if I can't sleep then I'll keep busy. Because momma always said there's always work to be done. And with the state of the RV there is plenty of work to do.

 

I start easy enough and before long the whole night passes away. By morning I managed to clear and make the bed.  The kids had slept the night away on the fold out couch. So at least from now on we'll have the bed.  And I put the clothes in every drawer and cubby that was in the back room.

 

For the two bunk beds, I tossed the mattresses out and used them as supply shelves.  The top one holding all of the boxed items, shoved in to the point that they're not likely to fall out.  On the bottom I stacked diapers and wipes which filled up fast. This got rid of a lot of the supplies jumbled up in the hall.

 

I stacked the toilet paper in the shower because I wasn't sure where else to put it.  I'll just have to be careful that the shower doesn't get turned on. I put the bath supplies under the sink between the shower and the toilet.  Then I filled all of the other cabinets with canned goods.  They fill up fast but it also holds the bulk of supplies which help.

 

I lower the table which ends up even with the bench seats.   Oatmeal and breakfast bars are stacked on the table.  Along with all of the boxed milk, bottles, sippy cups, and cans of formula.  Of course, plenty of the boxed milk, juice drinks, and sodas are put in the fridge.

 

Then I move to the bed that lowers down from above the driver and passenger seats.  It's twin sized and has a mechanical button to raise up or lower it.  So I lower it just a little, pull down the matress, and fill it full of freeze dried meals and MRE's.  

 

By this point there's barely any room for us, just the couch, the bed, and the two front seats.  And its growing brighter outside so I know it's morning.  This RV is organized enough for now. At least everything has a place. 

 

But I think I'm going to ask the brothers to remove the recliner because it's just in the way. Maybe I can put a small fridge or freezer there. I should get them to check in the store. They may even want to do the same to their own RV. Of course, that's assuming it can even come out.

 

An odd habit of brushing my hair back is met with stiff muck, like dried mud. I freeze first in confusion, then in horror.   I remember the blood and guts. How could I have forgotten?  

 

This time I make it to the toilet to be sick. My fingers grip the white porcelain as I vomit up last night's supper. I have a moment to be grateful that the toilet is clean because I'm leaning far to much against it. But then I remember my fingers buried in the rotten belly of that creature and my stomach heaves again.

 

When it finally stops, no more than coughing and gagging, I finally let go. With shaky hands I flush the toilet and push myself up. At least the water works on here. Maybe I can get clean. I move to the sink and grab a washcloth. Then I look up.

 

Looking in the mirror I don't even recognize myself.  My dark blond hair is a dirty red brown, coated thickly in dried blood and rotten flesh.  My face still has smears of blood almost indistinguishable from my freckles.  Although my freckles are only on my cheeks and across the bridge of my nose.  My brown eyes are wide, the pupil swollen.  

 

I wonder briefly if I'm in shock.  I probably am.  So I move all of the toilet paper out of the shower, stacking it on and around the recliner that holds the diaperbags.  Somehow I do this without screaming. I don't know how, because I'm screaming inside.

 

I dig shampoo, conditioner, and body wash out of the cabinet under the sink where I stashed it. I drop them, my hands shaking badly.  Then I strip down and turn on the water. The shower is small but so am I.  And I don't know how much water it holds so I try to be quick.  

 

It takes three washes before my hair finally feels clean.  Even then it doesn't feel like it's enough. Then I scrub at my body, wishing I had thought to grab a sponge. My fingernails scratch at my skin to wash it all away.  When I reach my lower leg it stings.  I glance down at four long scratches.

 

Im back on the bus. The scents of rot and blood are strong. Screams come from every direction. Hands shove me, shove my brother into me. I'm on the floor, a bag digging painfully into my back. My brothers weight crushing me before he can scramble away.

 

I can see Mrs. Molly's wide brown eyes.  The fear twisting her face.  The way she pulled and clawed at us.  But there was nothing we could do.  And looking back, it seems like she was trying to pull us on front of her.  As if she would sacrifice us in her place.

 

I start to cry.  Huge hiccuping sobs shake my shoulders.  I can't get enough air.  I slide down the wall to curl in the corner.  My chest is too tight, I can't breath.  I choke and I cry.

 

The door opens.  I hear a muttered 'Damn'.  Then someone turns off the water and a blanket is wrapped around me.  I don't fight.  I couldn't even if I wanted to.  I just sob and cry.

 

A large hand sooths up and down my back.  The blanket wrapped securely around me is soaked and turning cold.  I can vaguely hear the kids talking quietly to each other.  I should go check on them.  I know I should.  But I can't seem to move.

 

The hand on my back keeps stroking.  Another holds my head close to a large strong chest.  I'm aware enough to know it's the older brother, Merle.  But I can't bring myself to care.  I don't fall asleep either.  I'm too tired, to weary, to sleep.

 

Voices talk over my head.  A whispered conversation that I can't seem to grasp.  I'm not crying anymore, no longer sobbing.  I'm just laying limply against his chest.  But he's not hurting me.  Not that I'd care.  At this point I don't care about anything.  But he's not hurting me.

 

Time moves on.  I can smell oatmeal, apples and cinnamon,  cooking on the stove.  It's what mother used to make most Sunday mornings.  I can almost hear her humming a worship song while stirring the pot of oatmeal. 

 

She would already have her hair and makeup done. She would already be in a beautiful Sunday dress. Perhaps it would be the yellow one with tiny blue flowers. Or maybe it would be the blue one with big pink flowers, something tropical that I've never seen in person and don't know the name of.

 

I glance over to see the younger brother, Daryl, at the stove.  The kids are all still sitting on the folded out couch.  They're playing with toys, something small in their hands. I wonder briefly where they got toys but I can't care enough to think. If I could I would remember the toys I found on the baby isle, but the memory escapes me now.

 

My hair is dry.  It's not the brittle dry it was, it's soft and dry now.  And I'm cold.  For all that I'm wrapped in a blanket and being held I'm still cold.  I'm still too tired to move, so I don't.  But I am cold.

 

Daryl comes over with two bowls in hand.  One he passes to Merle, the hand at my back leaving.  The other he holds out to me.  I wish I could tell him I'm not hungry.  I wish I could say I'm too tired.  I don't even know what I want right now.  Maybe I wish I could sleep but I can't.

 

A spoon is held out.  I follow it up to Daryl who looks expectantly, and a little annoyed.  It takes longer than I want to admit for me to understand.  I take the bite, mostly because hes pressing the spoon to my mouth.  I don't even taste it.

 

There's an odd rhythm to it.  He presses the spoon to my lips and I take the bite.  Chew, then swallow, and repeat.  I don't taste it, not really.  And I don't know how long this goes on for.  But without fail the spoon is there again so I take the bite.

 

I can hear their voices now.  Merle saying, "It's just shock.  It happens all the time.  She did good holding on as long as she did.  Give her a day or two and she'll be fine."

 

I want to argue, or maybe agree.  I'm not even sure.  I just stay still in his lap.  Daryl replies, "It's still clear.  We can afford another day if we hafta."

 

Merle hums in agreement.  One of the kids squeals loudly.  I think that it's dangerous. We can't let them get loud, the Cursed might hear. And I can't protect them right now. 

 

But that's why the brothers are here right? I cook and do their laundry and they keep us safe. That's the agreement right? They're not asking much. And its not like we can survive without them. I can't protect these kids alone.

 

I look over to see Abigale and Evelyn waving dolls around. I think for a moment that they're fighting but they're just playing.  Daryl gets up, moving closer to them.  He doesn't say anything and they don't really react beyond a glance.  

 

He comes back with the laundry basket holding Kendall and Imogene.  Both are awake and seem to be blabbering quietly to each other in a language consisting mostly of grunts and mumbles.  I can't help but smile. 

 

They're so innocent at that age. Innocent but loud. And somehow I have to keep them safe. How am I supposed to do that? Yes I worked in the nursery but never alone. And I could always tell their mommas if they misbehave. How to I get them to mind now? And if they don't mind, how do I keep them safe?

 

I'm still cold.  But now the blanket is mostly dry.  It's brighter outside than it was and Daryl is again at the stove stirring a pot.   The babies are sleeping.  I'm not sure when they fell asleep but they are both sleeping.  I reach in to stroke at their legs and feet.  

 

Suddenly I realize I'm naked.  It's not that I didn't know.  It's more that I wasn't aware.  But now that I've noticed it's all I can think.  I feel my cheeks burn. I can't believe I've been naked this whole time. That's just so inappropriate. Daddy would tan my hide if he knew!

 

Merle smooths a hand down my back.  His voice is oddly soothing, "So, you're back with us now, Darlin'?"

 

I nod.  He hums and shifts me, careful not to knock away the blanket.  He sets me down on the bed and stands up.  He looks down at me, intense and worried.  Then he tells me to get dressed if I can.

 

There's a curtain that can be pulled to block the back bed from the rest of the RV.  Another curtain is further up separating the bunk beds and bathroom from the main room.  He closes the first curtain, giving me a little privacy.  I appreciate that.

 

My hands seem clumsy when I push at the blanket, my movements oddly uncoordinated.  But I push and pull until I'm free.  Then it takes a minute or two to remember where I put everything.  Thankfully the clothes are in here with me, in the closets and drawers.  So it's easy enough to pull out a green t shirt and black shorts.  The underwear and bra took longer to find.

 

Getting dressed takes an embarrassingly long amount of time.  By the time I'm done I just feel exhausted.  Still, I force myself to get up.  It takes two tries and a but of stumbling on half asleep legs but I manage.

 

The kids are all asleep which makes me wonder how long it took me to get dressed.  There's a bowl of chicken and stars soup on the counter but everything else is cleaned and put away.  Neither Merle nor Daryl are in the RV.  I look around a moment then decide to eat the soup.

 

I'm half asleep leaning against the counter.  So as soon as I finish the soup I head back to bed.  I leave the curtains open so I can wake when the kids do.  I'm so tired that I fall to sleep nearly the moment I lay down.  I barely have time to think up a plan.

 

I make a mental note to ask the brothers to go back in for some toys as well as chairs and tables.  Maybe we can find a trailer or something to fill and pull.  If not we can put in on the roof, maybe.  And some of those canopy things.  Well need some of them.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

 

The road to the quarry is a bumpy one.  It's all dirt road with twists and turns.  Merle leads our procession in their RV with his truck hooked up to the back.  

 

Daryl is driving ours, mostly because I can't.  They chuckled when I admitted that but they agreed easily enough. They were less amused when I told them my age, seventeen. Neither looked pleased. 

 

Daryl even pulled me aside later to ask if I was okay with all of this. I told him that I know these kids, I work with them twice a week or more. I told him that I'm sure I'll manage. 

 

Then I apologized about the whole break down thing. He waved it off with a shrug. And while they've both sent me concerned looks I've feel more myself again. I'm still a little embarrassed. After all I was naked around two men. But they were gentlemen about it, covering me and acting like they didn't notice. I appreciate that. 

 

When I suggested removing the recliner it gained a thoughtful look from both. Merle ended up being the one to remove it. There was a lot of cursing involved. Not to mention the cut finger that he almost wouldn't let me bandage. 

 

But he got it out and replaced it with a small freezer only hip high. It's empty now and not plugged in but Daryl promises that he'll hunt soon and fill it full of meat. Merle just nodding along as Daryl lists all of the animals he can catch.

 

Behind our RV is a small trailer holding tables, chairs, canopy, and toys.  Both men looked amused when I said we needed them but they relented when I asked if they were going to keep the kids occupied.  Apparently, while they can help from time to time neither has much experience with kids and both are wary of them.  

 

It's kinda funny but I'm careful not to let them know I'm amused. Plus it would be rude of me to tease them when they didn't tease me for my breakdown. And momma didn't raise me to be rude. She raised me to be helpful, to be a caregiver. She raised me so that I could be a good wife and mother.

 

While I'm not a wife, not really. I have that role in our weird family. Merle and Daryl both are the head of house and I'm the momma to the babies. Of course it's not that simple. But thinking of it that way helps me fill the role better. I can be a momma to these kids. And I can do the cooking and the laundry, no problem.

 

Momma was a couponer. She would spend days getting her folder ready and her weekly trips to the store were always a challenge of organization. She would always say to always be prepared. And I intend to because momma was right. Being prepared on the front end saves a lot of anxiety on the back.

 

We finally reach the top of the hill. A clearing opens ahead with several people already camping.  Merle drives through the center of the camp causing the people to rush out of the way.  Then he turns down a side path.  We follow.

 

There are angry mutters from the group already here headed by a man in an officers uniform with curly black hair and a large hooked nose.  His glare is leveled at Merle who calmly steps out of his RV.  Daryl parks ours across at a sideways angle.  That way we make an L shape with the open end towards the other group.

 

Merle is waving his hands and smiling friendly as he swaggers up to them.  I glance over at Daryl who gives a smirk and leaves to back up his brother.  I watch the men tense, looking judgingly at the brothers.  And I can't help but be offended for them.  

 

I've seen those looks before. I've seen daddy look at the homeless man on the street like that while complaining about lazy bums. I've seen the women at our church look that way at unwed mothers that come to our community events. I've even seen that look on old Mrs. Mary's face whenever she sees a black man. 

 

I really don't like that look! It's a judgemental, 'I'm better than you' kinda look. I hate it. The bible says we shouldn't judge but we do. We judge on appearance and skin color and that's just wrong. These people, mixed in races as they are, judge the brothers to be less than them.

 

Didn't I think the same? When they first showed up I was afraid. But I got to know them and I trust them. They're good men. They may be rough around the edges as momma would say but they have good hearts. And these people have no rights to judge. 

 

Once they get to know the brothers they'll understand. Just like me and the kids. We trust them now. These people just need to see them in a different way. They just need to see that these two men can be good. And the bible says from the mouth of babes... And babies always soften people up.

 

I wave little Sarah over, hand her two cold bottles of water and ask her to hand them to our friends.  Her soft brown hair is braided on both sides, little pigtails even if they are short. She's a sweet girl, outgoing and friendly. Of course she'll want to be helpful.

 

I settle on the steps, watching their shock as sweet little Sarah bounces over waving the water with a dimpled grin.  Merle grins back and presses a kiss to her head before telling her to go back inside.  Daryl takes his with a soft thanks.

 

It's almost visible, and amusing, how swiftly the attitudes changed.  One minute they're puffed up for a fight, snearing back at Merle's smiling face.  The next they're backing down a little dumbfounded and actually listening to Merle talking.  I get a few looks so I smile and offer a polite wave, holding Imogene close to my chest.

 

The looks are confused and somewhat incredulous but at least the open hostility is gone.  I ask loudly if I should go ahead and make lunch.   Merle shouts back for me just to worry about me and the younguns, they'll eat after they finish negotiating.  

 

So I close the door. Best to let the men handle things. That's what momma and daddy would say. They'd say negotiating or anything dangerous just ain't the place for a woman. They'd say it's the woman's job to watch the kids and keep the home. So that's what I'll do.

 

I make mac and cheese mostly because it's an easy fix.  And the kids give excited shouts which I'm sure are heard outside.  They hush easy enough. A few loud voices saying thank you but theyre all happy enough with their lunch. I even give them each a bowl of pretzels to go with it.

 

I shouldn't be half as amused as I am but I can't help it.  And it wouldn't be so funny if they hadn't been so judgemental.  I mean yeah we shouldn't have driven through their camp without permission but they were snearing down at the brothers from the moment they saw them. And there was no reason for that.

 

I change and feed the babies before settling them down in the laundry basket that has doubled as their bed. Theyre both awake, wide eyes looking around alert. So I sit there and sing to them. They both look back, hypnotized by a lullaby. It's very sweet.

 

The door opens.  Merle and Daryl climb in.  Both look amused, especially as the kids shout out a chorus of greetings.  I pass them both a bowl of food.  They take it with an amused grin.  

 

Merle is the one to tell us, "They're okay with us staying so long as we mind our own.  Me and Daryl will hunt, sharing meat with the group.  Y'all just gotta keep to our area."

 

I nod in agreement, "We'll need to mark out the area so the kids understand.  I grabbed several rolls of rope, laundry line I think, that we can use to mark out where they should stay."

 

Merle agrees so I add, "We should also put up the canopies and tables and chairs.  But we should be careful with our food supplies or they'll take them all."

 

"Yeah," Merle snorts, "We figured that out already."

 

So after lunch they set to work at that.  Before long the canopies are up as well as carpets rolled out beneath them.  Once those are up I bring the kids out.  They're hesitant at first. It's been a while since we've been safely outside.  It doesn't help that the other group is staring at us.  But they relax quickly enough.

 

They already have a few dolls and toy cars and trucks which I lay out for them.  Then I follow Merle to the trailer we pulled to get out the kids table and chair sets.  We have ten shoved in the back, from princess to Mickey mouse to robots, cars, and superheroes.  We grab one of each design so eavh kid can have one.

 

The kids get excited when we break them out.  Soon enough there are shouts of mine as each child claims a set.  That occupies them for a bit.  I glance up to see Daryl with an armfull of ropes that he's winding around trees to mark the area.

 

I go back to helping Merle unload.  We have two climbing structures made of hard plastic geared towards toddlers.  There are also three red rider bicycles that we pull out.  That too gets a lot of exclamations of joy.

 

Then we pull out the folding tables and chairs for us.  Merle designates one for meat prep that he sets up near their RV.  The other will be for our use.  The chairs are a curved plastic, oddly comfortable.  We setup three chairs by our meal table and two by the other.

 

By this point Daryl is finished laying a double line of rope to act as border.  The kids are laughing and playing and finally acting like themselves.   And I finally feel the tension drain from my shoulders.

 

I settle in one of the seats to watch the kids.  This is finally feeling normal.  It finally feels stable.  And the kids are finally acting like themselves.  Especially when Abigale and Evelyn start arguing over a bicycle that they both claim a turn at.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

 

Morning comes quick enough. It's hard to believe we've been here a week. The days appear to drag but before you know it they slip away.  With seven kids to take care of I find it easiest to keep to a schedule.  

 

Honestly, I stole the schedule from Mrs. Caroline.  She was awesome at organizing events and parties and with three little ones that couldn't be easy.  So I took a few lessons from her, back when I was curious and made my extra money by babysitting.

 

Six o'clock is time to change Kendall and Imogene.  Then they both get a bottle and get burped before I put them back in the basket.  Or if they're being fussy I'll put them together in the carrier I have but I worry if they're in it too much they'll get hot.  

 

By seven I'm making breakfast for everyone.  Most days it's cereal or oatmeal.  But some days it's powdered eggs and hash browns made from canned potatoes.  

 

Sometimes Daryl will come over and help me make biscuits.  I don't know how he does it but they are the very best biscuits you've ever had.  He'll say it's the lard.  But either way, it's awesome. Way better than mine, even the kids agree. Which makes him embarrassed but proud.

 

Then I wake the kids.  We all sleep on the bed now, which is a crowded pile of bodies and constantly getting kicked.  So the fold out couch is back to just a couch.  I set them up there with their breakfast while I take Daryl and Merle theirs. After all, they have their own RV.

 

Their RV is full of supplies too, mostly hunting, fishing, and camping supplies. I half expected them to tell me to clean theirs too but they take care of it theirselves. The only thing they have me do is their laundry, just like we agreed. And they organized their stuff, utilizing the two bunk beds as shelving, as well as the cabinets since the food is in my RV. 

 

Some days Daryl will leave before sunup.   When he does he lets me know so I don't bother to make him a plate.  We have to be careful not to waste food.  Most of what he brings back are squirrels and rabbits.  

 

He and Merle skin them and pass them to the other group. Not that they get a thank you. Oh, no. The other people will eat the food, all the while complaining. Which sets Merle teeth on edge. Especially since it's him and Daryl doing the dirty work.

 

After breakfast I take the kids outside to play. It's good for them to be outside. Plus, the RV doesn't have the room to keep seven little ones cooped up for long.  And there's plenty for them to do within our little yard. There's even more toys than before.  

 

Daryl and Merle left a few days ago and came back with a couple cozy cars, several toy dump trucks, more dolls and action figures, and some tea sets.  It's adorable as can be when Merle sits down with the girls for a tea party. Sarah especially has latched onto him.  Even Daryl shakes his head at his brothers antics.  But he's just as likely to play along when Emmett hands him a toy phone to talk to.

 

While outside I usually do laundry.  One of the things found at the RV store was a foot powered washing machine.  It's apparently some new age thing but essentially it's a roundish bowl with a roundish lid that you can put up to four or five pieces of clothes inside. It works with a foot pedal to make it turn.  You add a cup or three of water and a small scoop of detergent and it cleans them.  Then I just hang them up on the line that Daryl put up between the two RVs. 

 

Its quite a wonder when you consider the other group are still washing clothes in the lake. Not that I didn't offer them one. We had two, since that's all the store carried. But they wouldn't listen, sneered and walked away when I tried talking to them. That pissed Merle off and somehow he ended up in a screaming match with the black guy T dog. I'm still not sure how that happened.

 

Laundry can sometimes take a while.  Mostly because the washer doesn't hold many clothes.  But I don't do it every day so that helps.  And Merle and Daryl thought it was funny that I grabbed clothes for them.  And while they don't change daily like I'd like, they change often enough that I know the clothes are appreciated.

 

There's also the lack of water, the tanks only hold so much. And unfortunately we used all the water already. So we go every other day down to the lake to bathe. It's usually late afternoon, after an early supper but before it gets too dark. Plus if they're really sweaty I'll wipe them down with a washcloth and a bowl of water. 

 

Merle and Daryl will both go to guard us, their backs turned the whole time. It's usually a lot of fun. The kids love splashing even if they don't like shampoo in their hair. And by the time we leave they're all usually pretty worn out. So we get an early bedtime on those days.

 

Then the babies need changing, feeding, and burped.  By that point it's usually eleven so I go inside and cook up lunch.  It's usually soup, ravioli, or Mac and cheese.  Then I make plates, call the kids, and hand out their food.  They eat lunch at their little tables outside which they love.  

 

Merle usually comes by for his unless Daryl is already back and they're skinning animals.  Then I take their plates to them and leave it on the end of their table for when they're ready. They always offer a thanks, no matter what I put in front of them. And they always eat all the food on their plates.

 

After lunch the kids come in and crawl into bed for a nap.  I set up the portable DVD player with a cartoon but they're usually all asleep within minutes.  I let them sleep for a couple hours, most times I'll take a nap too.  Then it's back up and outside.

 

If Daryl isn't back by lunch he usually comes back a few hours later when we're waking from naptime.  By that point it's time to take care of the babies again.  If he's done with the skinning then he'll help me feed the babies.  If not I'll do it alone.  

 

Sometimes I take a chair over to their table to talk while they work.  Rarely do the kids go near them when they're skinning though.  I think it's the blood. Not that I blame them. It can be pretty gross. But like Merle says, if you want to eat you can't turn your nose up at how the food is prepared.

 

The afternoon is spent outside with the kids playing.  Then by five in the evening I'm cooking supper.  I try to do better for this meal.  It's still a lot of canned chicken or tuna.  We even have some canned ham.  Then I cook up some veggies to go with it, usually potatoes and something else.  Daryl and Merle will unusually sit at our table with me and the kids sit at their little tables.

 

Dinner is actually a lively affair.  Merle tends to tell amusing stories, not always appropriate for small ears.  The kids chat away more than they eat but they do eat.  It's when I feel the most like I'm home with family. Which is odd because my family now is nothing like it used to be.

 

Then it's time for the kids to put up their toys.  This is usually just them parking their toys against the RV or putting the dolls, action figures, and small cars in the two plastic bins that Merle somehow produced.  He's quite a crafty one, I'm sure there's a funny story involved.  Whether it's true or not remains to be seen.

 

With toys picked up the kids sit down at their tables to color.  Thank goodness Daryl and Merle found coloring books and crayons on their run because it works wonders for helping them settle down. And I can start getting the babies settled for bed.

 

Then the kids get washed, usually just a bowl of water and a washcloth unless it's bath day.  By that point they're tired and go easily to bed.  I do tell them stories or read to them, sometimes I even sing.  But most are asleep by the time their head hits the pillow. And twice in the night the babies wake up needing tending.

 

This morning Daryl knocks on the door with that self satisfied smirk he so rarely shows.  He already has a bowl of biscuit mix all ready to be rolled out and cooked.  With a grin I wave him in.  The kids are gonna be so excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Dixon brothers are a prejudice to a degree, Merle more so than Daryl. It is part how they were raised and part where they grew up. If you're not taught different then you won't think different. They'll get over it eventually, Daryl before Merle.
> 
> For Charlie, it's not intentional, she doesn't see herself as prejudice, but in a way she is. She doesn't think less of people based on their race but all she knows is what the adults in her life showed her. Like when her father would complain about young black criminals or that Mexicans are stealing all of the jobs. Her mother would look suspicious at black men or assume black women were troublesome or aggressive. And kids pick up their parents habits even if they don't understand the cause or reason for those habits. She'll wake up first.
> 
> Her mother raised her to plan ahead so that skill comes in handy now. Her mother was raising her to be a wife, a support for her husband, and a mother. All of the lessons her mother taught her make her a good asset for this world, but it also leaves her vulnerable. I'm basing her and her church off of a church my grandmother took me to once. I don't agree with these views but this is how people are so this is how the character is.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 

We've been here for two weeks.  It's been good at times and bad at others.  The other group, for all that I would like to think them nice, have been rude and dismissive towards us.  More than once I've heard the words 'redneck', 'trailer rats', and 'imbred'.

 

They never say it to our face.  Oh no, they whisper it to each other loud enough for us to hear but where they can claim we must've been eavesdropping.   It's annoying because I could see my parents, and several people from my church, doing the same thing.

 

The kids have picked up on the tension, the way all kids do, and have made a habit of avoiding the other group.  Merle, in a temper at times, has lashed out.  This just made them more certain of their judgement.  Which is beyond infuriating.

 

I mean, they have a wife beater, an adulterous pair, and Lord knows what else.  You don't see us acting like we're too good for them.  But they sure think we're the shit on the bottom of their boot.  And I don't have the energy to bother changing their opinions.

 

Still, it worries me like crazy when Shane, the self appointed leader, insists that Merle go with the group.  He tries to twist it to make it seem like Merle doesn't contribute to the group.  It's bullshit!  

 

It's Shane that's always lazing about or running off with his girlfriend.  And she wears a ring while he doesn't.  And with the way those two are cattin around they've been doing this a while.  

 

Her boy Carl is the one who told us about his dad getting shot in the line of duty before this all happened.  His daddy was a cop, a sheriff or something back home. He's a real polite boy, that Carl. That sweet boy must've gotten it from his daddy because his momma is the worst. 

 

And she doesnt do much either.  She doesnt even mind her own kid.  But oh boy, she'll talk shit about my kids.  I don't bother correcting her because I don't care for her opinion either way but how she talks about us is horrible.  And she stirs up shit worse than anyone else here.

 

The brothers do plenty around here, without getting any thanks.  Merle sets and checks traps everyday.  And he and Daryl patrol the woods.  Not slipping away to screw a married woman like Shane Walsh.  They actually go looking to be sure the Cursed arent close.  And Daryl hunts every day to keep meat in their bellies.

 

Yes, we have food stocked up and could share.  But they're a lazy greedy lot and I don't trust them not to rob us blind.  Merle thinks it's funny that I get so suspicious of them but he doesn't trust them either.  

 

Still, Merle was goaded into agreeing.  The whole team would have Glen, Andrea, T dog,  and Jackie.  Glen is usually the one to make the runs.  But a few close calls and a lot of complaining by Andrea lead to a group effort.  Shanes idea on who should go.  He tried to get the mexican man to go but he backed out claiming his wife is sick.

 

Then Lori went around acting all worried to complain about how the woman is pregnant and babies are dangerous.  She's already tried to pull that with us.  She went around the whole first week we were here complaining about the kids, especially the two babies, and how the noise they make will attract the dead.

 

She was actually trying to turn the group against us because of the kids.  It probably would've worked except the kids are well behaved, rarely loud.  And the babies cry some but I calm them down quick enough.  Eventually Merle shouted at her across the clearing to go mind her own kid and quit worrying about others.  

 

And for some reason that made others mad.  It could've been because of the rather colorful language he used.  But it was also true.  If she paid more mind to her boy than ruttin in the woods with her lover then the boy wouldnt get up to half the mischief he gets to.  But apparently pointing that out was a problem.

 

It's probably a good thing that Merle is going with them.  Because I'm sure he's the only one with any weopens training or common sense.  But I just don't feel good about this run.  These people don't like us and I don't trust them not to betray him or leave him for dead.

 

I try to tell him.  He shrugs me off but I can see that he worries about the same.  So I make sure he has an extra knife.  And I even slip a pocket tool set to him.  He frowns and asks what good it'll do but I can only shrug and tell him again it's better to have and not need than need and not have.  Just like momma used to say, better prepared for anything than caught unaware.

 

Then I pass him a bag with three bottles of water and a box of breakfast bars.  He huffs and complains that I'm overdoing it but he accepts them.  I even slip in another knife, a small flashlight, a box of matches, and a small pair of wire cutters in case he has to get through a fense.

 

He looks through the bag with a whistle.  The he complains, "I'm only gonna be gone a few hours, not a few weeks.  And where in the hell do you think I'm going?"

 

I rub his arm, more to comfort myself, and answer, "I'm just worried.  Something about this just doesn't feel right.  This group is like gasoline and matches and I'm worried you'll be the one left behind."

 

His face softens.  And with a gentle, "Darlin," he pulls me into a hug.  I let him, taking what comfort I can.  Because he has been so good to us.  They both have.  And the rest of the group doesn't give them a chance.  

 

I watch them leave with a twist in my gut.  So I pray.  I pray that he comes back.  I pray that the run goes well.  And when Micah asks me what I'm doing and I tell him, he calls the other kids over and we all pray together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point the Dixons, Charlie, and the kids are pretty much seperate from the rest of the group. There's a lot of misconceptions rolling around on both sides so there's a lot of tension between the two groups. She's only really gets Merle side of the story when he gets in arguments with the group so from her point of view he's just being protective and the others are the irrational ones.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

"You sent them out there!" A woman's voice shouts painfully.  I turn to see Any faced off against Shane.  There's an edge of histerics in her voice when she adds, "It was your idea and now you're just going to leave them there?!"

 

Amy is Andreas younger sister.  They are both tall leggy blue eyed blondes with sweet faces.  But with a ten year difference they are easily mistaken for mother and daughter.  While Andrea has sneered and scoffed at us from day one, Amy has been kinder.  She's not a friend, per say, but from time to time I do exchange hellos.  With Andrea I just avoid.

 

They didn't used to get along.  The age gap too large and their personalities too different.  Apparently, they were on a road trip before Amy left for college.  This was supposed to help them bond, one last chance together before life pulled them too far apart.  But the apocalypse put an end to that.  And now they're stuck here without any way to know if their friends or family made it.

 

Shane puffs up, "She knew the risks.  It was her choice to go."

 

"They went because you told them to!" Amy scoffs.

 

Lori tries to butt in, defending Shane's leadership like she always does.  Amy turns from them, arms crossed angrily as she stomps away.  I thought she would go into the RV that she shares with her sister and Dale.  That's where she usually goes.  That or the quarry lake. 

 

For some reason, she comes this way.  Her posture goes quickly from angry to pained.  She gets as far as the ropes, both lines less than knee high, before she stops.  Watery blue eyes meet mine.  I can see the pain, the question, so I motion her forward.

 

The kids come quickly when I call.  Abigale leading the procession up the steps while the others follow her into the RV.  Micah walks behind Emmett, watchful in case he stumbles.  By the time she reaches us the kids are already inside.

 

I lift up the basket with Kendall and Imogene, resting it on my hip.  Then I call Amy to follow me inside.  I can hear Lori try to order her back.  But one of the good things about the Dixon's is that the others won't cross them lightly.  And both Daryl and Merle have warned what would happen should anyone trespass.

 

So I'm not surprised when Amy hesitates.  Nor am I surprised that the others try to call her back.  But she follows.  Perhaps she's just too angry with the others to be near them now.  I'd like to think it's because she wants to be friends, but I think it's more to get away from them.

 

Most of our supplies are not visible.  We've been careful to insure the others don't k ow what we have out of fear that they woukd take it.  There's just the stuff out on the table and while it's a lot compared to what they have, enough to make her stop and stare, it's not much compared to the rest of our supplies.  

 

We've actually been eating it down and I've been redistributing the remainder in other areas.  So while there is plenty of formula and boxed milk and juice, there isn't much oatmeal, breakfast bars, or snacks.  But there is enough to surprise her.

 

I take the moment to pull the curtain closed that hides the back half of the RV from the front.  She doesn't even notice.  I set up the portable DVD player with a cartoon, some show about talking puppies, and pass them fish shaped crackers to snack on.

 

It's not often we have snacks.  We do have them but I don't let them gorge on them.  Instead they each get a half cup full with the understanding that they will not get more.  Most of the time they're good about it.  Sometimes they whine or argue but it doesnt last long when they do.

 

Since they're settled I head back to the front, still carrying the two babies in their laundry basket.  Lunch already past so the snack is more to keep them occupied.  And I trust them to behave for the most part.  There may be a bit of tussling at times but overall they are all good mellow kids.  I guess I'm lucky for that.

 

She's still standing there, staring at the food on the table.  I sit the basket on the floor in front of the couch and sit down.  I figure I'll just give her a minute.  Since I doubt she came here to talk or hang out.  Oh no, she came here to hide.  So I'll let her hide.

 

It takes almost three full minutes.  By that point I'm holding Imogene because she's a little fussy, gas mostly.  And while she's burped it doesn't seem to help.  But when I hold her up high on my shoulder, that seems to sooth her some.

 

Still, it's a surprise when Amy asks, "Where did you get it?"

 

And I understand.  Shane has been stomping around, complaining about dwindling supplies.  He's been pushing Glen to make runs every other day.  And its dangerous.  But he keeps guilting Glen into it.

 

"Merle and Daryl hit a daycare center three days ago," I confess.   "It wasn't far and they were only gone a few hours.  This is what they brought back."

 

She turns to stare at me now.  Her voice oddly emotionless when she asks, "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

 

"Because they were mainly going for formula and diapers," I answer honestly.  

 

She frowns so I elaborate, "Shane and the others don't like us so they don't listen to anything we suggest.  Merle suggested rigging up cans on strings for an early warning system and the guys out there jumped all over him about it."

 

Guilt flashes over her face.  So I don't feel bad about adding, "Both Merle and Daryl have tried to talk Shane and some of the others into getting everyone trained but most won't trust the Dixon's to teach them and the rare few willing to give it a try, Shane puts a stop to it.  He makes empty promises of safety and future training and people are too comfortable to fight it."

 

She shifts in discomfort, something like shame appearing in her eyes but gone again in a blink.  She asks intently, "But why didn't you tell anyone about the daycare?"

 

"We did," I answer snappishly.  "We spoke with Shane.  Both Merle and I tried to tell him of places to hit.  But he shrugged us off and talked over us until we gave up.  So Daryl and Merle went and we decided to keep this for the kids."

 

She scrapes her shoe back and forth across the floor.  Her gaze locked onto the movement.  She doesn't ask anymore and it's not her fault so I don't lecture her.  Instead I invite her to sit down beside me.  She hesitates, but only a moment.  Then she's sitting cautiously down.

 

"So," I can't help but ask, "How bad is it?"

 

She bursts into tears.  I offer a nearly silent, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

 

Imogene is calm enough that I put her down in the basket.  Then I go to the fridge.  There's one thing in there that isn't for the kids.  One thing that's just for me.  I grab out two amber bottles.  The can opener on the counter has a bottle opener attached so I pop both tops.  Then I pass her one.

 

No doubt her sister would disapprove.  Merle would think it's hilarious and Daryl would think it's dangerous.  But Andrea would be pissed.  But it's just an apple ale.  No more alcoholic than a beer and far better tasting.  

 

She doesn't even hesitate to drink it half down.  I raise an eyebrow at that but okay, if she wants to get drunk, we can do that.  I go ahead and grab two more, leaving them on the edge of the table.  Then I retake my seat.  I guess we're getting drunk today.

 

She's on her second ale while I'm still on my first.  She turns her head to stare at me.  Her gaze heavy with questions.  I wait her out, figuring she'll ask when she's ready.

 

She only lasts another minute before asking incredulously, "How old are you?"

 

I almost burst into laughter but I manage to hold it in while answering, "It isn't polite to ask a lady her age."

 

She's eyeing me suspiciously now.  Then she looks down at the babies, studying them intently.  A few minutes of silence pass before she asks, "Who's their dad?"

 

I hum, taking a drink of my ale to buy time.  There are several answers I could give.  Most of them would cause hilarious reactions.  I must've taken too long because she eyes me shrewdly asking, "Are they even yours?  Did you take them?"

 

I sigh.  The last thing we need is them thinking were kidnapping children.  They already think the worse of the brothers.  And me, they think horribly of me too, merely by association.

 

"You can't tell anyone," I warn her.

 

She eyes me suspiciously but nods agreement.  I figure she'll weigh what I have to say before really deciding.  Hopefully she'll keep our secrets but even if she doesn't I don't care.  So I tell her.

 

"I'm seventeen," I tell her, ignoring her widening eyes.  "When this all happened, my parents took me and my brother to church."

 

She's watching me, her mouth open in a startled 'O' of surprise.  I continue, "Supplies didnt last long and the Cursed caused a lot of problems.  It was decided that we would leave the church and get out of the city.  Our bus only made it a few blocks when we were overrun by about fifty or a hundred of them."

 

She gasps in horror, her face pale.  I add, "They tipped our bus over and they got in, overwhelming the doors."

 

I look away from her, unable to handle the look of sympathy on her face.  I try to explain, "So many were dead or dying.  It was shear luck, nothing more."

 

I swallow hard, choking on the smells of the memory.  "It was horrible," I gasp out.  "But somehow I got a few of the kids that were near me and climbed up on the roof.  Over thirty people that I've known for years, some my entire life, most of whom were children.  And there was nothing I could do."

 

I take a long drink, draining the bottle.  Then I take the next one, open it, and take a long drink.  I need the slight buzz before I continue, "I don't know how long we were up there.  Long enough that the screams had stopped and there wasnt much left of the bodies."

 

I look back at her to see tears streaming down her cheeks.  "They came for us," I snap at her.  "Merle and Daryl, they saw us and they came.  They set off an alarm a few streets over to draw the majority away and the drove around to get us."

 

She looks away, sniffling pitifully.  "They dont ask for much," I add softly.  "All they want me to do is cook the food and do laundry for them.  That's nothing compared to what they've done for us."

 

"I had no idea," she says guilty.

 

"None of you bothered to try," I snap back.  "None of you cared enough to get to know us.  To you, we're just inbred redneck trailer rats."

 

She flinches as if I slapped her.  I sigh and offer a soft apology.  She shakes her head saying, "It's us who owe you three an apology.  We've treated you all horribly."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

 

We're both fairly buzzed.  The kids are occupied with cartoons.  Every so often giggles and laughter can be heard so they're alright.  And the two babies are asleep after Amy helped me change and feed them.  And we've had two more ales each.

 

A loud blaring sound echoes closer.  Something like a siren... like an alarm.  We share a startled look before we both shoot off the couch to stumble outside.  Whatever is coming can't be good.

 

The sun is blindingly bright and it's far too hot.  We both stumble forward as a shiny red sports car comes to a screeching halt.  Shane and others are running forward shouting to shut off the alarm.  Glen jumps out offering apologies for the noise.

 

Amy is stumbling forward shouting for her sister.   Glen turns, eyes wide at her inebriated state.  But he does quickly assure her that the others are just behind him.  He mentions a cop, some cowboy sheriff that they found.  

 

A large white box van comes bumping up the hill.  The black man, T dog, is driving.  It barely comes to a stop before Amy is banging on it calling for her sister.  The back doors open and Andrea jumps out, grabbing her sister in a desperate hug.

 

The two blacks, T dog and the older woman Jackie, exit the front doors.  But I don't care about them. I only care about one person.  A bad tempered man who curses like a sailor and doesn't wash nearly enough.

 

I'm distantly aware of Andrea asking Amy if she's drunk. And when I spare them a glance I see Amy clinging desperately to her sister. But Andrea doesn't look mad, more like confused. As if it never occurred to her that her sister would drink. And she's probably also wondering where Amy got the alcohol from. 

 

I stifle a giggle at that. A sound that's borderline hysterical. I get a few odd looks, me standing so close to the other group when I haven't left our area much. A few even glance over concerned but I ignore them. Just as I ignore the cop that slips out, cowboy hat brought low over his face as he talks back to someone. The last person leaves the van.

 

When I do see him I nearly fall to my knees.  I was so sure that he wouldn't make it.  I was so sure that they would leave him behind, sacrifice him. They've certainly made sure he knows they don't like him even if there was never a reason for the dislike.  I had almost resigned myself to his death.  So the relief of seeing him alive nearly knocks me off my feet.

 

I'm running before I realize.  I don't care that he's sweaty, dirty, and bruised.  I don't care that there's blood splatter on him. Nothing matters except that he's alive, he's safe. And the relief is painful.

 

I leap up into his arms, clinging to him.  He doesn't stagger, doesn't even stop walking.  He just carries me as if I were one of the kids. And when I wrap my arms and legs around him he doesn't push me away.

 

I'm shaking and crying and saying 'Thank God' over and over again.  He has one arm under my butt and the other hand is gripping the back of my neck.  He doesn't push me away or tell me to hush.  He holds me close.  

 

And that more than anything tells me that it was close. Because while the brothers are tactile, they like to touch. Their touches are fleeting like they don't want to get caught at it. They never linger, especially where the other group can see. It's as if they think it's a weakness the others would exploit.

 

I wouldn't care because I need to hold him. I need the reassurance that he's alive. And if I had worried needlessly he would've put me down. He would 've lead me away from the group while complaining about overemotional women. Although he would've stayed close for my comfort.

 

But he doesn't put me down. He holds me tight. He clings to me just as I cling to him. And I know it was bad. I know that it was a close thing and he was genuinely scared for his life. Because he doesn't say a word. And Merle is never quiet. 

 

So I close my eyes and cling harder. My legs wrap tighter around his waist. Tears burn my eyes as a gasping sob escapes me. And still he doesn't say a word. He doesn't hush me or tell me to calm down. He just holds me tight and keeps walking.

 

He carries me to the RV and up the steps.  He doesn't slow or stumble.  He even closes the door behind us.  It's an impressive show of strength.  He's careful when he settles us on the couch, me in his lap still clinging.  He still doesn't push me away.  If anything he clings harder. 

 

I'm shaking and crying and clinging like crazy.  His hand is tight on the back of my neck.  His other is rubbing up and down my back.  I don't know if it's for my comfort or his or both. He doesn't cry, but he doesn't say anything either. And Merle is never quiet.

 

It takes far too long for me to calm down.  I know it's because of how upset he is. He doesn't cry but he doesn't talk, Merle is always talking. But I calm down because there's more here than before. The kids have come out and climbed up around us.  

 

I calm myself down and turn to sit beside him, my legs thrown over his lap.  Together we calm the kids down.  Because they're only picking up on our stress. Sarah clings to his neck while Emmett climbs up on me. The others squeeze in where they can.  We sooth them, humming and petting until they calm.  

 

He doesn't comment on my breakdown.  He stays calm but with the way he holds us I know he's shaken up.  I know he is still panicked. Because if he was really calm he would be teasing by now. But he's still silent.

 

But we're not alone now, the kids are here. And they need our attention now. So I bring the DVD player in here and put on a movie about cartoon garden gnomes.  It's cute and soon enough the kids are laughing and relaxed.  

 

I start on dinner.  It's early but I need something to do.  I start with cornbread.  It takes a while and will keep so I make extra.  And I make them in muffin tins so that it makes individual cornbread muffins.  Merle actually grins at that. 

 

Some of the tension in my shoulders release. Because if he can smile then he will be alright. I just have to take care of him. He needs me now as much as the kids do. And I'll get him through this because we're family. And family takes care of their own.

 

Then I have to decide on dinner. Something that will make him happy, make him know hes home.  I figure they'll want something that goes with cornbread so mashed potatoes and boiled carrots are a must.  I even open a can of turnip greens which gets a compliment from Merle.  This is good.

 

Then I remember the deer from last week.  We had steaks that Merle cooked up and Daryl put a few steaks in the deep freezer.  We were gonna save them but Merle needs the comfort now. Besides, I trust Daryl to get another deer soon.  

 

I decide on country fried steak with sausage gravy.  That earns a 'Hell yeah!' from Merle.  It keeps me busy going from one pan to the next.  As momma said there is always something to do and keeping busy helps you feel steady when you're nervous. 

 

The kids are calm and happy again.  Even if Sarah still hasn't let go of Merle yet.  And the kids get excited at the spread.  They know this is a rare treat even if they don't understand the reason for it. But Merle is already looking more alert, more himself. So it's definitely worth it.

 

Merle rangles them into carrying all of the stuff from the table to stack in the shower.  It's not a problem because the water tank is already empty. And this way they won't be eating on the bed or the couch. At least we both agree that we want to keep the kids inside today. 

 

It's probably just the scare. Once we get past it we'll be alright and they can go outside again. But we need to feel safe again, especially Merle. And he'll want to do a thorough check of the area first. Because he's very protective of us and he'll need to be certain were safe before we can go outside. 

 

Then he raises the table so the kids can start eating.  They're excited to climb up and as soon as the plates are down they start digging in. Small mouths full of big bites as they chow down. I offer a half hearted warning for them to be careful.  Merle laughs that they know good eatin when they see it.

 

He takes his own plate, settling himself back down on the couch.  I make my own plate and settle next to him.  He reaches over, pulling my legs into his lap.  I twist enough so I'm facing him, my legs thrown over his lap and the end of the couch.  

 

He sits his plate on a pillow on my legs.  His left hand wraps around my knee, not hurting but tight.  He keeps eating, acting like everything is fine.  I relax back, enjoying the fact that he returned safely.  

 

I don't ask him to stay because I already know he will. He needs this, he needs us. And he knows I need him close tonight. We don't have to say it. Because with so many things, it's not the words that matter. And we both understand that.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

 

Merle spends the night in our RV.  We lay out the couch bed for him to sleep on.  Once I get the kids to sleep in the back I join him where he sits on the couch bed with the last two apple ales.  

 

He snorts but accepts the bottle. It's not what he would normally drink and I doubt it will give him a buzz but it's all I have. He drinks down the whole bottle in one go. The slightly raised eyebrow tells me he likes it more than he thought he would. So I hand him the last one, he needs it more than me.

 

I curl up against his side, pressing close.  I shouldn't bother him but I ask, "Do you want to talk about it?"

 

He lets out a sigh that slumps his shoulders.  His answer isn't what I expect.  With gaze distant, he says, "I screwed up."

 

I reach up to wrap an arm around his shoulder.  He stiffins, both react this way to unexpected touch. Then he shifts down the bed until he can lay his head in my lap.  I stroke his back, arm, and head.  Whatever happened doesn't matter.  He already blames himself.  He needs comfort not judgement.

 

His voice is gruffly soft, "It was a mess from the beginning.  They wouldn't listen to me or the chink.   Anything I'd tell them to grab they would argue.  This group was never gonna work."

 

I don't say I told you so.  I don't point out that I already argued that it would be that way.  Even if it was obvious from the beginning that the group wouldn't work, too many conflicting personalities.  

 

But he doesn't need to hear that.  He needs my support, my comfort. So I just keep stroking his back, his arm, his head. He presses his body along my legs, resting his weight against them. Almost holding me down but it's not a threat, never a threat. It's as if he can shield me from what happened.

 

He rubs his face against my leg, an aggravated huff escaping him.  Then he settles with a defeated sigh.  He's obviously struggling with what happened, having trouble putting it into words. Because for as much as he talks he doesn't usually say a lot. I wait patiently for when he's ready. 

 

"I found a body," he explains ashamed.  "I checked his bag and found a baggie of coke.  It's been so long since I got high so I took it."

 

Drugs?  He's on drugs?  Since when?  Does Daryl know?  Of course Daryl would know.  They know everything about each other.  

 

He must've felt me tense because he starts stroking my leg, pleading eyes meeting mine as he explains, "I wasn't gonna get high there.  I was gonna bring it back with me. Maybe go off in the woods one day soon with Daryl to watch my back. I'd never endanger yall."

 

And I believe him. Because he and Daryl both take our safety very seriously. We belong to them, the way a woman and kids can belong to a man. And they accept that.  Hell, they're proud of that fact. I don't think they've ever had a woman or kids to worry over before. But they're both good men and they take good care of us.

 

He lays his head back down. Eyes closed, face scrunched up in annoyance, he says, "But then this idiot on a horse showed up bringing a herd, bigger than the one that got your people, and we were trapped."

 

He presses his face against my leg in shame.  So I stroke his back, his arm, his neck to sooth him.  I won't judge, I dont have that right.  And everyone makes mistakes now and then, it happens.  He doesn't need scolding or judgement, he just needs comfort.

 

He huffs a heavy sigh against my leg, a warm gust of air.  I stroke his head and neck with one hand, the other stroking his back.  "I figured we were dead," he confesses.  "It was stupid.  I shouldn't've taken the risk but I was too wound up so I snorted some coke."

 

His hand goes back to stroking my leg, athough it seems to be more to sooth him than me.  He continues, "I lost it.  It happens when I snort coke, I wanna fight.  So I attacked the nigger man.  And the new guy was a cop and he cuffed me to a pipe."

 

My brain freezes. They cuffed him to a pipe? They literally chained him up? When the world is like it is! When the dead are eating the living! They cuffed him to a pipe?

 

My heart is pounding in my chest. And I can see it in my mind. I can see him in the dark, left all alone. Forgotten in a metal dungeon beneath a fallen mall. Lost beneath a sea of Cursed with no one to help him... no one to care. 

 

My stomach churns at the thought so I cling harder. My stroking hands now searching for wounds. But he's here. He's alright. He's safe with us now and I won't let this happen again! If that asshole Shane tries anything I'll knock him on his ass! And the Dixons won't let him hit me back even if I hit him first.

 

I finally notice the handcuff on his wrist. My fingers ghost over the metal, the shackle that trapped him. I feel sick.  I don't know how I didn't see it before.  But it's there, tight on his wrist, with only two links dangling free.  He must've cut himself loose.

 

"It took a while for me to sober up," he confessed miserably.  "They ignored me.  They was gonna leave me there on that roof.  And I was hot and sick and thirsty.  They didn't even give me no water."

 

Oh my God! They didn't leave him in some dark basement. They chained him on a roof. Trapped, with freedom always within sight. Exposed to the elements, in pain and thirsty. Would they have given him water? No, they would've left him to die of thirst and heat. My hands tighten on his neck and arm.

 

His voice takes on a hard edge at this point, "Then I remembered the bag you gave me.  I still had it.  So I drank some water and found the wire cutters."

 

Thank God! No he understands why I insisted he take so much. It's always better to be prepared. Especially if you can't trust the people you're with. I'm so glad I insisted he take it. Thank God, he had what he needed to escape.

 

He frowns, his hand tightening on my knee.  "It wasn't easy like I thought," he explains.  "I almost didnt get loose.  Them cutters are for thinner wire, I think.  But it eventually snapped enough for me to get loose."

 

His whole body tenses up when he adds, "They was gonna leave me there.  They was all ready to run, climbin in the van, and the dead were breaking through the doors.  They was gonna leave me and they didn't even care!"

 

I'm shaking now.  I hold him tighter, rubbing harder along his back more to sooth myself than him.  I was right.  They would've left him to die.  Those bastards! They were gonna leave without even a backwards glance!

 

His breath hitches, "Them selfish Bastards don't care about no one but themselves."

 

He doesn't cry.  He doesn't even complain any more.  And eventually he falls asleep, one hand still gripping my knee.  It's not an easy sleep.  He fidget, shifts and mutters.  But at least he falls asleep.  And with a bit of wiggling, I lay down beside him.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 

Last night wasn't a good one.  Merle woke several times.  He would snap up, hands fisted and an angry snarl on his face.  The first time I almost screamed.  Probably more because he slammed me down and put his weight on top of me.

 

He didn't hurt me, not really.  But he slammed me down hard and his weight was really too much.  And the look on his face, the raised fist, it scared me.  I flinched back, turning my head and tensing for pain.  

 

But he didn't hit me.  He pressed his face into my neck, apologising.  Then he moved to lay beside me, one arm holding my waist tight.  It wasn't exactly comfortable, probably because my heart was pounding like crazy.  But I was able to relax and we both fell back asleep.

 

This repeated twice, his weight almost painful each time.  The other five times he popped up swinging at shadows, fighting dreams.  It was terrifyingly violent.  

 

But he would wake up from it quick enough.  He would blink around confused.  Then his shoulders would droop, he would scrub at his face, then he'd send a pitiful look my way.  

 

The first time I stayed frozen, too afraid to move.  He didn't like that.  He didn't get angry, just sad.  And he would pet at me until I calmed enough to reach back for him.  Then he'd settle down and fall back into fitful sleep.

 

I'm grateful when morning comes.  I slip from the bed.  It's a struggle to escape his grip but I manage.  And I set about making powdered eggs and hash browns made from canned potatoes.  Then I start a small pot of coffee. 

 

Hes awake for nearly the whole time but he doesn't say anything.  He just watches me quietly.  And once I set the plates for the kids and leave to wake them up, he gets up and folds the couch back up.

 

Emmett wakes first, with blurry brown eyes and messy blond curls.  Hes a heavy weight in my arms but he goes easy enough to the kitchen table.  He's a sweet one, my Emmett. Quiet and watchful like Daryl.

 

Micah wakes up grumbling and stumbles to the table while I carry a still asleep Evelyn. She doesn't open her eyes, even when I sit her down. She just slips in the corner fast asleep. Emmett sits beside her, watchful glances to be sure she doesn't fall.

 

Micahs the oldest, expected to act the most mature. And usually he does. But every now and then he'll look pitiful at me, wanting to be held. I try to hold him then so he knows we care about him too. And sometimes Merle will clap his back and tell him that he's a great big brother. He always puffs up proudly at that.

 

Sarah whines, kicking sleepily.  So I take Abigale first.  She blinks around confused when I put her at the table but she wakes up more when she sees the food.  Sarah, not happy being alone in the bed, cries with arms up until I carry her to the others.

 

I pass them each a sippy cup of chocolate milk and a buttered cornbread muffin.  Merle stays quiet while I get them settled.  I pass him a plate, a cup of coffee, and settle next to him.  Breakfast is a quiet affair but by the end we're all more awake.

 

Merle passes his plate and cup back to me and leaves without a word.  I already know that he's gonna check the area. He need to be sure we're safe before we can leave. So I let the kids take their time eating. And when they're finished, I change their clothes. More to stall them than any real need.

 

The kids are restless now, nudging each other. But Merle walks up to the door, giving a soft knock. That lets me know it's safe to come out now.  So I open the door to let them out.  They won't go far, they never do.  

 

I spend a few minutes cleaning. The dishes get cleaned and put away, the counter and table wiped down.  Then I change and feed the babies.  

 

I decide to hold them in the carrier today. It's a strong cloth wrap that ties around my body, over my shoulders, and ties around my waist. Then I slip first Imogene, then Kendall, in each side. There's a band around my middle that I unfold and pull up which slips over their back. Between that and the wide pieces that follow up their backs to wrap over my shoulders, they are snug as can be.

 

Merle is out there, sitting at the far table but watching the kids play.  I can see him easily enough with the door open. I trust him to keep them safe so I don't worry much.  I gather up the clothes into a basket. Once I have ours I'll head out and start on the laundry.

 

Daryl climbs up the open door.   I didn't hear him return but that's not surprising.  That man can move silent as a cat.  He's dirty, having been out hunting since yesterday.  

 

I put the basket down and turn to face him. I expect him to start bragging about bagging a deer.  Or maybe I expect him to complain about the others even if that's more Merle than him. I expect him to ask what happened even.

 

What I didn't expect was for him to say, "Damn Walker ate my deer."

 

"What?" I gasp out.

 

He shakes his head in frustration, answering, "I tracked the damn thing all night and when I find it, near camp even, a damn walker is chewin on it."

 

I start to rush outside.  The need to check on the kids is overwhelming.  I need to hold them, to drag them inside where it's safe.  I can't loose them!

 

Strong arms band around my waist, holding me back. Careful of the babies, because they are always aware of the kids.  I turn, preparing to fight loose.  I need the kids to be safe. And if a Cursed walker is out there then my kids are not safe!

 

But Daryl is already talking, "They're safe, Darlin', they're safe.  Merle already gone to check the area again to be sure."

 

It's not enough.  I need them inside where they'll be safe.  Something of that must've translated to him because he loosens his hold with a chiding, "Don't go spookin the kids now, Darlin'.  Call 'em in if ya wanna but don't go spookin 'em."

 

I immediately feels guilty.  He's right, I would've scared them if I had run out there like that.  So I take the reprimanded as it's meant and force myself to act calm.  But I still need them inside.  

 

He lets me go, rubbing a hand along my side.  That's something I noticed about the brothers that I didn't expect at first.  They touch a lot.  It's not bad, kinda soothing actually.  It seems to me something like I'm here and I got you.  

 

Merle may talk a lot but neither brother really says much.  However both communicate more with touch than with words.  It's kinda like a language all their own.  Only you have to know the brothers to understand what's said.

 

A pat on the shoulder, a hand on the back, both mean good job, and I got your back.  These are mostly for each other.  Like when they walk out to check the area for dangers.  Or the few times they've gone on a run for supplies.

 

There's tight holds on arms or legs and long strokes down my back or waist.  This they do for me.  It's their way of saying that I'm theirs and they'll keep us safe.  It's a reminder of their strength.  Not as a threat, but a promise of protection.

 

There's the pats on the head and stroking hair.  This is more for the kids.  It's their way of saying you're mine and I'll protect you.  And they each have a favorite.  

 

For Merle it's Sarah.  She has him twirled around her little fingers.  She'll call him to a tea party and he'll sit there pretending to sip from tiny cups. Or she'll ask to be held and he'll carry her around for hours, one hand petting her hair nearly the whole time.

 

For Daryl it's Emmett and Imogene. With her, he offers to hold her. Sometines he'll slip in at night to help me care for them and its always her he picks up.  With Emmett, the sweet boy dogs his steps and follows him like a little shadow which he makes him puff up in pride.

 

Our little family may be an odd one to be sure, but it's a good family all the same.  And honestly, I think they need us as much as we need them.  They are gentler, calmer, because of us.  And while Merle can sometimes lash out at adults, he's never in a temper around us.  If he gets mad he'll just walk it off.  

 

I trust them both.  I trust them not to hurt us.  I trust them to keep us safe.  I trust their judgement and decisions because I know they have the greatest concern for our safety.  Were a family, even if it's not a traditional one.

 

But I still don't feel safe with a walker coming close to camp.  So I call the kids to put up their toys and return inside.  There's looks of dismay and a few outright refusals from Abigale and Micah.  But Daryl snaps at them to behave and they hurry to comply.

 

He stays too.  He doesn't have to.  He could leave me with them all in this cramped RV.  But he settles on the couch and little Emmett crawls up to sit beside him. Because Emmett always wants to sit beside Daryl.  

 

I convince the kids to hold a car race down the hall.  Micah and Abigale both agree but neither Evelyn nor Sarah look excited.  So instead I get them to have a tea party with their dolls near the freezer since that's the only open floor space. This only buys us an hour, and barely that. Then I turn on a show for them which works for a while.

 

When lunch comes they eat at the table.  And afterwards I convince Daryl to help me make bread.  Because I still can't make it as good as him. And he loves that he can do this for us, so I feel no shame in asking.

 

He agrees and it quickly becomes a group effort. We use the table, with the kids on either bench.  It's messy, mostly due to eager little helpers.  But we end up with three loaves baking in the oven by the time Merle comes back.

 

I set the kids up with a movie on the big bed to keep them occupied.  Then I get out the maps that I've been looking over in my spare time.  There's one of Atlanta but three for the surrounding areas since that will be easier to manage.

 

I show them the areas I've marked.  There are urgent care clinics and animal hospitals we can hit for medical supplies.  Then I show them the small corner and dollar stores, the three distribution centers for big stores that are all outside of the city and will have a tremendous amount of supplies.  

 

Then I point to possible relocations.  There are farms that are far enough out that we could have time to fortify.  Then there are two neighborhoods with fencing around them.  One has a tall metal gate while the other has a five foot tall brick wall.  Both have pros and cons about them.

 

For the one with the metal fence, something could slip through the bars.  And enough walkers could overwhelm the gates.  But if it hasn't fallen, we could put up a wooden fenses against the metal one to support it.  It's also hilly and part of it will flood during heavy rains so it's not my first choice.

 

The other is mostly flat though one side does go higher than the other.  The brick wall goes completely around with a strong metal gate at the two entrances.  But the wall is only five feet tall, so it would have to be built up higher.  And there are openings every so often, half circles at the bottom, for water to drain out.  We would have to grate or brick them up too.

 

Either option requires more people than us for it to work.  And I'm not sure if this group will work with us.  Because they're all still deluding themselves that this will all blow over and they'll go home.  And unless they wake up and try working with us they won't survive.

 

I explain all of this to the brothers.  They ask questions, mostly Merle.  I answer them.  Like the fact that I know about the neighborhoods from church.  The one with the fence is where the Warrens lived.  I would sometimes babysit their boys.  Or the other is where Mr. Thompson and his brother and sons worked as painters on the new homes.

 

They both look impressed.  Merle even offers a, "Damn, Darlin', I knew you was a smart one."

 

But the trouble will be getting the other group to agree.  Because there is still a lot of bad blood between us and them and I worry.  Plus, I dont know how Merle will handle them after they left him for dead.  Even if he acknowledges his part in that mess.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

A knock on the door interrupts our discussion.  Merle lumbers forward to answer it.  Eyebrows raised, he offers a soft whistle and says, "Damn, Blonde, didn't think you'd brave the trailer park."

 

I glance past him to see Amy standing at the bottom of the steps.  She looks anxious, eyeing him in concern.  Her arms crossed over her stomach, hugging herself.

 

He tenses and I already know why.  He thinks she's afraid of him.  He thinks that she's afraid he'll hurt her, maybe force her.  But he would never hurt a woman, or a child.  

 

Neither he nor Daryl would.  It goes against their very souls.  They both despise wife beaters and child abusers.   Hell, they've both wanted to shoot that man Ed since we arrived.  Not that I blame them, in fact I agree.  But the other group would riot if they did.

 

He sees her worry, her fear, her hesitation, and he takes it as an insult.  He opens his mouth, no doubt to go off.  But she speaks up first, "Andrea told me what happened.  Are you alright?"

 

That makes him freeze.  He blinks dumbly back at her.  As if he isn't sure he heard her right.  His brows furrow in confusion as he weighs whether or not she's being serious.  Then they jump up when he realizes that she is, she's genuinely concerned. 

 

He blinks, looks at us, then looks stunned back at her.  He manages a gruff, "I'm fine."

 

And when that falls flat on his own ears, he adds, "Can't nothin kill a Dixon but a Dixon!"

 

He says it like a fact.  You know, the earth is round.  The sky is blue.  Nothing can kill a Dixon but a Dixon.

 

She blinks back, maybe a little startled by his words.  But she smiles gently back, kindly even.  And he's visibly stumped by that.  It's actually amusing to see such a big man so startled, so confused, by just a little kindness.  Amusing and sad, because how can anyone be surprised by kindness.  

 

He would act the same way with me.  Like the first time I hugged him.  Or the first time I smiled at him.  Or the first time he realized I look them both over for injuries each time they come back.  Like he's confused that anyone could care about him, worry about him.

 

She must've understood some of it at least.  Because with a kind smile she tells him, "I'm glad, Charlie and I were really worried."

 

He throws a suspicious glance my way.  I meet his gaze evenly.  I'm not ashamed.  He knows I worry when they leave, that's not news.  But it surprises him that she knows I worry.  And I can see the question of how does she know, when did we get close?

 

His suspicion doesnt last long.  Because he trusts me.  And that makes me smile, warmth flooding my chest.  He trusts me.  So if I accept her then he will too.  Because he knows I won't do anything to hurt him or Daryl.

 

He looks back at her, offering something gentler than his usual smirk, less offensive maybe.  But something draws his attention past her.  He looks up , into the night, and freezes.

 

His hand shoots out, grabbing her arm and hauling her inside.  His other hand is slamming the door before he even lets her go.  His face pale, chest heaving.

 

She panics, shouting out.  Her eyes wide, startled.  But he's pushing her back, shoving her further inside.  She's panicking and confused, not understanding what happened.

 

But Merle is tearing open the kitchen drawer and grabbing out the gun and ammo inside.  That kicks Daryl into movement.  He grabs up his crossbow and cursing when he sees he only has three arrows.

 

Their eyes meet, something dangerous is communicated.  They come to an agreement, a conversation held within a glance.  And they both move to the door.

 

Merle is out first.  His gun raised barks in his hand once... twice... three times.  Daryl steps down, calling over his shoulder, "Lock the door and keep quiet.  We'll be back."

 

And I do.  The moment they are out I rush forward to lock the door.  I get a glimpse, barely a glance, but it's enough.  The Cursed are coming.

 

I shut off the lights and push Amy down on the couch.  She's still holding her arm where he grabbed her.  She's still looking around confused.  She doesn't understand.  She hasn't seen the herds move before.  She doesn't know how fast they can overwhelm you.

 

I push past the curtain and run down the hall.  Yanking up the DVD player I nearly break it shutting it off.  Then I look at the kids.

 

Wide terrified eyes meet mine.  They know!  They know the same way i know.  We've lived this before.  It's the bus all over again!

 

But gunshots still bark loudly outside.  Merle shouting for the others to fight back.  Frightened screams come from the other group.  Even Andrea screaming for her sister.

 

That snaps me into movement.  I barely make it back to the front before Amy can open the door.  I tackle her down.  She's struggling to get out and I'm hissing at her to stay down, to stay quiet.

 

She screams for Andrea, actually screams.  I slap her.  I didn't mean to.  I didn't even think about it.  But my hand stings and she's looking startled back at me.

 

"Noise attracts them," I whisper, urging her to listen.  "We have to keep quiet.  We're safe in here as long as we're quiet.  And the brothers won't let them reach us.  We just have to stay quiet."

 

She touches her cheek, startling herself.   But she nods that she understands.  So I let her up and urge her to hide under the table.  She blinks, confused, but she complies.  

 

No doubt there will be problems tomorrow.  Because her cheek is already red and there's a bruise peaking out from under her sleeve.  But shes alive.

 

I hurry back down the hall.  The kids are still there, all sitting on the bed.  There's a strong smell of urine and wet faces, running noses and crying eyes.  They're terrified.  But thank goodness they're being quiet.

 

I gather them up.  I have to hide them somewhere.  If the Cursed walkers get in I can't let them reach the children.  So I pull them off the bed and get them to follow me.

 

I can't take them to the front.  There are far too many ways for the things to get in and nowhere to hide.  But the shower is hard plastic and the door is frosted.  I can hide them there!

 

I open the stall, tossing out everything that's inside.  Then I grab extra blankets that are folded beside the bed, wedged between the bed and the wall.  There are only a few in here but it's enough.

 

I lay out two of the blankets in the bottom of the shower and hurry the kids in.  Then I tell them that no matter what happens they can't make a sound.  They comply, with hiccuping sobs and shaking bodies, but they comply.

 

Once they're settled, with dolls or soft lovies to hold, i close the door.  Then I use the other two blankets to drape over the door so that if the dead get in they won't see them.  I can't block it all the way, they need air.  But if I put the mattress from the bed against it then that should offer some protection.

 

They're crying louder now.  There's still gunshots outside, louder guns than just handguns.  And if they're still shooting then there are still Cursed outside.  Maybe they won't hear us in here.

 

I start to sing, loud enough that the kids can here but hopefully not too loud.  It's a song I found online, one I fell in love with.  One I always thought made a beautiful lullibye.

 

"Wondering child of the earth, do you know just how much you're worth," I begin shaky but soon the rhythm comes through.  "You have walked this path since your birth, you were destined for more."

 

I grab the blanket and sheets off of the mattress.  They reek of urine anyways so they'll need to be washed.  

 

"There are those who will tell you your wrong, they will try to silence your song, but right here is where you belong, so don't hurt any more."

 

I pull the mattress.  It's heavy, and wedged into place.  But with a lot of shoving and a lot of tears I get it out.  

 

"Because you are, the dawn of a new day that's breaking," I swallow last the lump in my throat, "A masterpiece still in the making, blue in an ocean of grey."

 

I get the mattress in the hall and push it against the shower.  Then I use rope, clothes line really, to get it held in place.  Even if they hear or smell the kids, they shouldn't be able to reach them.  So at least I've bought them some time.

 

My voice is stronger now, no longer stumbling over the words, "You are right where you need to be, poised to inspire and to succeed, you'll look back and you'll realize one day."

 

There's banging at the front.  I follow the sound to see one of the Cursed hitting a rock against the drivers side window.  "In your eyes there is doubt, As you try to figure it out, But that's not what life is about, So have faith there's a way" 

 

It's trying to break in.  But there are still gunshots outside.  More now by the sounds of it.

 

"Though the world may try to define you, It can't take the light that's inside you, So don't you dare try to hide, Let your fears fade away"

 

I grab a knife off the counter and crawl to kneel in the driver's seat.  Most of the skin is missing from her cheeks and jaw, her teeth exposed.  She only has the one arm, her hand holding the rock.  Then I press the button for the window to go down.

 

"You are the dawn of a new day that's waking, A masterpiece still in the making, The blue in an ocean of grey, You are right where you need to be, Poised to inspire and to succeed, You'll look back and you'll realize one day" 

The Cursed is older, probably someone's grandma.  With barely any white hair left and what was once a flowery nightgown.  She leans closer, snapping teeth at me.  I stab the knife forward.

"You are the dawn of a new day that's waking, A masterpiece still in the making, The blue in an ocean of grey, You are right where you need to be, Poised to inspire and to succeed, Soon you'll finally find your own way"  

 

I press the button for the window to go back up.  There are no more gunshots.  Now all I hear is crying.

 

Something bangs on the door.  I jump, knife held tight.  But Daryl shouts out, "Clear for now, y'all okay in there."

 

I collapse crying.  I can't move, the relief is too strong.  It's Amy that answers as he pounds on the door.  It's her who unlocks it, stepping aside as he barrels in.  And suddenly he's there, arms around me.  And I can finally breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is wanderers lullibye by Adriana Figueroa it's a beautiful song, if you haven't heard it you should look on youtube😊


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 

I was such a mess.  Even after Daryl barreled into the RV, holding me.  And Merle climbed in, one hand coming to grasp the back of my neck.  I don't even know how long I cried.

 

Amy was crying too.  Merle took pity on her and walked her back to her group.  Andrea was crying for her and I heard her shouting her sisters name.  Merle admitted to hustling them both into the RV along with Eds woman and her girl.  Shane had already put his woman and her boy inside.

 

I didn't ask how many were lost.  At least none of the children were.  And Merle said that the cowboy sheriff, a man named Rick, had a whole bag of guns.  Apparently he and a few others had been gone all day in the city to get the guns and came back towards the end.

 

I don't care about any of them.  I cling to Daryl.  He helps me get the mattress down.  We drag it into the living room because I need us all to be together.

 

The kids are a mess.  They reek of urine and a few messed themselves.  Daryl stayed there to help me clean them up.  He brought over a boiler pot of room temp water and a wash cloth.  Then he pulled Emmett close while I started with Abigale.  

 

We changed their clothes, wiped them off.   They each get a diaper or a pull up, even Micah.  Then we redressed them in soft pajamas from a nearby drawer.  I send a thank you to my past self for putting all of the pajamas together in the bottom drawer because it's easier to get too.

 

My hands keep shaking and more than once I drop the diaper or the clothes.  From time to time Daryl will reach over and grip my elbow.  Not to hurt, never to hurt.  But he's saying that he has me, that we'll be okay.

 

Once the bigger kids are done we tackle the babies, him with Imogene and me with Kendall.  We get them changed and redressed.  Then it's a warm bottle for each.  

 

The others, seeing me making the bottles, demand their own.  They're really too old but I don't care.  I make a bottle for each of them.  Five more bottles of warm milk, only Micah hesitates but he takes it too.  And they all get settled on a freshly made up mattress on the floor.

 

Merle, being the one to make up the mattress, also makes up the couch bed.  Then he take the rope and ties it around the door and over to the couch.  At my questioning look he answers, "In case anyone or anything tries coming in.  This'll wake me up."

 

Merle settles closest to the door, overlooking the kids where they're settled.  Daryl crawls over to the other side, keeping watch on the front windows.  So I crawl between them.  Relaxing some now that I finally feel safe.

 

I don't sleep.  I can't, really.  I check on the kids and I touch Daryl and Merle.  I just need the reassurance that they are there.  So I reach out to grip a wrist or press closer to their sides.  They dont shake me off because they are just as bad.  Their hands grip tight to parts of me.  My arm, my leg, my waist, anything they can reach they grab a hold of.

 

I'm still exhausted when morning comes.  And my hands shake too much to cook.  So I don't wake the kids.  I let them sleep late.  And when they do wake up, I get down the cereal and pass out bowls.

 

But Merle and Daryl, they head out as soon as the sun is up.  They go to clean up the bodies.  I can't think about that.  So I curl up on the couch bed, breathing their scent off of the pillows.  

 

They stay out there most of the day.  One of them comes by ever so often to glance in but they don't stay.  There must be a lot of bodies out there.  But I already know that from all the gunshots last night.

 

The kids are subdued.  Even the babies look around unhappily.  They dont ask to leave.  In fact, they eye the door with suspicion bordering on horror.  And while I keep movies going, it doesn't keep them distracted for long.

 

We have loaves of bread now.  I almost forgot.  But there are three loaves of bread, well, two and a half I guess.  So I make pb&j sandwiches.  Somehow, for some reason, that does more to lift their spirits than anything else.

 

I even insist on the brothers eating two apiece.  Something they grumble about but accept with minimal reluctance.  At least I know they had something.  Plus I push a bottled water on them every time they look in.  Although I gave the kids a glass of milk with their lunch.  

 

It's only soy milk, the almond already gone.  But they like it well enough.  And somehow that combination, milk and pb&j, seems to reawaken all of their spirits.

 

By early afternoon the work is done.  The other group is talking and wanting to relocate.  According to Merle, the new guy Rick has taken charge of the group.  He don't sound too happy about it.  Not that I blame him, I'm not happy following a man willing to leave someone chained to the roof of a Damned city.

 

But Merle says the guy is wanting to go to the CDC.  The moment I hear that I'm out the door.  Merle following slowly.  Daryl only goes as far as the doorway, unwilling to leave the kids all alone.  

 

I spot the guy, tan cop clothes with a gold star on his chest and a brown cowboy hat on his head.  "Hey!" I shout at him, "You Rick?"

 

He looks from me to Merle, who's standing at my back, and back to me.  He nods with a, "Yes, maam."

 

"What the Hell are you thinking tryin'ta get these folks killed?" I snap out angrily.

 

I ignore Merle's cautioned call of, "Darlin'."

 

He blinks surprised.  Then he looks over my head at Merle.  That pissed me off.  "I asked you a question, Rick!" I snap angrily.  "Are you tryin'ta take these people to the CDC?  Don't you know that's a bomb?"

 

He holds both hands up, his tone only slightly patronizing, "I know you're scared..."

 

"This ain't about being scared!" I interupt.  "This is about the fact that the CDC is a bomb about to explode and if you go y'all will all be dead!"

 

Merle hands come to rest on my shoulders.  It's only then that I realize I'm shaking like crazy.  I try to calm down, missing most of what Rick said in reply.

 

But that bitch Lori steps up, her finger in my face, "Don't you start yelling at him when all he's done is keep us safe!"

 

"Bitch, he's a stranger!" I shout back, too angry to keep quiet.  "I don't know nothin about him except he was willin to leave a man chained on a roof to die!"

 

"As if That Redneck didn't deserve it," she snaps back hatefully.

 

I lunge, Merle grabs me around the waist while shouting for Daryl.  I kick and wiggle but I can't reach her.  I just wanna claw her damn face off!  

 

Lori is shouting back about how we're the wrong sort and it would've been better if Merle hadn't come back.  
I snarl back that I'll rip her face off. Rick turns to passify the woman while Shane steps up like he's about to fight.  

 

I'm too angry to calm down. I struggle to reach her, I'm gonna beat her to death! But Merle is holding me too tight and I can't get away. 

 

So I lash out with words, "Go back to fucking your boyfriend in the woods, Bitch, only this time go farther so we ain't gotta hear ya!"

 

There's an odd silence that I don't really hear.  I only know it's there because I hear Merle say, "Damn!"

 

I hit at Merles arms but he won't let go.  I try to twist to get down but he doesn't let me.  I snarl out, "Fine!  Go to the CDC and get your skank ass blown up!  But you ain't riskin My family!  You ain't riskin My kids!"

 

Merle turns me away from them and suddenly Daryl is there.  He presses against me and for a moment I'm trapped between them both.  Then Merle lets go and Daryl turns to carry me away.

 

I hear Amy ask, "What does she mean 'blown up'?"

 

And Amy is my friend.  So I shift myself higher, so I can see over Daryls head, and I shout back, "It's the damn CDC!  They got smallpox and the fucking plague!  Them generators only last a month, give or take a day, then they blow."

 

"Like a real bomb?" A male voice asks.  I think it was the black man, T dog.

 

I shout back, "They programmed the buildins to blow, to burn the air and make a fucking crater so nothin can get out!"

 

I didn't feel it when Daryl stepped over the rope but I felt when he steps up into the RV.  He closes the door, shutting us away from them.  I'm aware enough of the kids to know they are huddled on the mattress.  But I can't seem to focus on them.

 

Daryl doesn't put me down.  He carries me back to the bedroom.  The mattress is still up front so all that's in there is the wooden platform where the bed goes and the drawers underneath.  The platform is flat across, made of a thick sturdy wood.  For some reason I didn't notice before.

 

Daryl crawls up on the platform, careful at first but more confident as it doesn't creak much.  He lays me down as if the mattress were still here, as if we're gonna sleep.  But I can't sleep.  I couldn't last night and I can't now.

 

He shift, pressing me down.  His arms caging in my head, elbows touching my shoulders.  He's still between my legs, the weight painful at my pelvis.  So I plant my feet and shift my hips.  He settles easily although I wasn't expecting the sudden rush of sensation at the movement.

 

I feel my legs shaking.  I can only really tell because of how they are pressed against his hips, but the muscles in my thigh are jumping.   Even my spine is shaking.  The muscles of my back feel too tight.  And the platform is very uncomfortable.

 

Daryl meets my eyes, his own a steady calm.  His voice soft, like talking to a spooked animal, "Darlin, I got ya.  Can ya calm ya'self?  Can ya do that for me, Darlin?"

 

I'm shaking my head without thinking.  "I can't calm down," I try to explain.  "Somethin is wrong with me, Daryl.  It's like I'm wound too tight.  Like somethin's gotta happen."

 

He hums, shifting his weight.  His ears are red but his cheeks aren't.  His eyes and voice are steady and calm, "It's called 'fight or flight'," he tells me.  "It's a normal response to trauma.  Last night you was wound for flight but now theres nothin to run from so yous wound for fight."

 

That sounds right.  I can't be still, I can't settle.  I need to do something.  Something more than just lay here.  Maybe I could clean.  But my hands are shaking like crazy and I can't keep my thoughts straight.

 

He shifts again, holding my gaze even as I keep looking away.  Again he explains, "Your body is too wound up.  You're damn near shakin me off.  But I can help ya if ya want."

 

He frowns when I start nodding.  Why?  Didn't he want me to agree?  "Don't know if you're ready," he says, uncertain.  "But it's the only way I know that'll work.  I need your permission first.  You gotta tell me if ya okay with it.  You gotta tell me if it get too much.  Ya understand?"

 

I struggle to hold the words or even understand them.  My chest is hurting from how fast my heart is beating.  My hands tremble where they grip his shirt.  But he can help me.  All he needs is my permission.  I can do that.

 

I try nodding but again he frowns, "Ya actin like a spooked rabbit.  I need words, Darlin."

 

A breath gust out but all I can think to say is, "I trust you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: next chapter will contain mature content, readers caution


	18. Warning: mature content

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mature content, skip CHAPTER if you don't want to read.

Chapter 18

 

I didn't expect the kiss.  His lips are dry and chapped.  His tongue is hot and heavy in my mouth.  But it's something to focus on.  And he pulls back some.  Making short swipes with his tongue.  Sucking at my lips.  Confusing at first, but nice.  

 

The kiss lasts a while.  Long enough that I can unclench my fists from his shirt.  And I start kissing back.  I've never kissed before.  Embarrassing, I know.  But I was always shy.  And I worried that whoever I kissed would be the person I would marry so I was afraid to rush it.  But I do trust Daryl.  He won't hurt me.  He won't leave me.  I'm safe with him.

 

His arms move, his hands grip my shoulders and stroke down to my elbows.  Then he stokes back up.  The kiss continues.  I suck on his lip, his tongue swipes into my mouth.  I slip my tongue to lick the roof of his mouth.  He bites at my lip.  It's an odd sort of thing but nice.  And my spine isn't shaking any more.

 

His hands move again.  The left goes beside me, holding his weight off of me.  The right goes to my waist, stroking the skin exposed as my shirt is pushed up.  The stroking is gentle, barely there at first.  But then his hand splayed wide over my hip, gripping it for a moment before he pushes his hand over my stomach.  

 

It's distracting, that's for sure.  And I wasn't expecting the sparks of pleasure at the feel of his hand gripping my waist.  It was powerful, enough to make me curl up.  But his weight still holds me down.  Oddly enough that makes it feel better

 

His hips are shifting slightly back and forth.  It causes little bursts of pleasure and makes me tilt my hips and curl my toes.  I gasp, his tongue swipes into my mouth.  My feet leave the bed.  I want something but dammit I don't know what.  A frustrated whine escapes.

 

I'm still shaking but it's different now.  My heart is still pounding but I don't want to leave.  My legs are trembling against his hips but it's not fear.  I want to ask what he's doing to me.  But I'm pretty sure I know.

 

His hand is back on my waist.  Fingers splayed and grip tight.  It makes me dig in my heels and lift my hips.  I don't even know what I hope to achieve, only that I need to do something.

 

He pulls back to look me in the eyes.  His own pupils are blown wide, the blue barely visible around black.  My hands stroke up his shoulders to grip his upper arms.  He shifts his hips, his grip tightening.  

 

I gasp, a shudder crawls up my spine.  Like a bolt of lightening beneath my skin.  Something is happening, something big.  But I'm not afraid.

 

He tries twice before he can speak, his voice a gravely growl, "I need your permission.  I ain't doin more less ya give me the okay."

 

"I trust you,"  the only words I have.  The only words I know, "I trust you."

 

He leans down, his lips sucking at mine.  I bite at his lip, his hip shoots forward, a bolt of sensations races through me, which sparks a gasp from me.  

 

He leaves my mouth, his own moving to suck and bite at my neck.  I can barely breath.  Each gasp contains an almost moan.  My hands scramble at his back, not scratching but rubbing and pulling.  His hips rock in a steady rhythm now but it's not enough.  

 

His hand moves down my hip to grip my leg, just below the curve of my butt.  I want to giggle, to complain that it tickles.  But when he tightens his hand, pulling while he moves his hips, a kalidescope bursts before my eyes.

 

I don't know what happened.  He's looking at me, proud and slightly amused.  But his expression softens and I know the question before it comes.  "I trust you," I tell him, "I trust you."

 

He licks his lips, nodding in agreement.  Then he goes back to my neck, biting and sucking.  I want to do that too.  So I lean up, catching his shoulder, collarbone really.  I kick first, tasting dirt and sweat.  But it's not bad.  So I suck at the skin, using my teeth to hold him close.

 

Hes moaning against my neck.  His own mouth moving to my shoulder.  So I move mine to his neck.  

 

The muscles are strong here.  His vein pulsing against my lips.  I suck on that point.  It earns a moan and a sharp thrust of his hips.  I'm shaking again, my whole body shivering.  But I'm not afraid.  I could laugh at how not afraid I am.

 

His hand is back, pushing my shirt higher.  Then he lifts himself up so that his weight is gone.  I want to whine or cry.  I try to pull him back down.  But he's pushing my shirt up and I realize he wants it off.  So I wiggle and push until I'm free, tossing the shirt away.  Then I throw my bra off too, it was uncomfortable anyways.

 

He stays there a moment, almost frozen.  His gaze moves with an almost physical touch down my body.  I feel nervous and exposed.  But I trust him.

 

He licks his lips, his gaze meeting mine.  I answer without prompting, "I trust you."

 

I reach for his shirt.  I want to feel his skin against mine.  Nothing sounds better than that right now.  I need to touch him.  I need to know he's alive.  I need to know I'm alive.

 

He hesitates but only for a moment.  Then he pulls it off.  His chest is wonderful.  Tan from being outside and yet paler along the sides.  He must wear a shirt nearly all the time even if he leaves it open.  

 

His body is thickly muscled, strong but not defined.  I can feel the strength.  And there isn't any fat to be found.  But his body has creases, rises, and bends.  It's perfect but not perfectly smooth.  And while their is hair, it's a fine dusting. 

 

I stoke down his chest to his waist and back up to his shoulders.  He's warm and alive and perfect.  I sit up and lick up the center of his chest.  He shivers at that.  But when I move to do it again he stops me.

 

He pushes me back down, both of his hands gripping my waist.  I gasp at the sensation.  My spine bows, my hips tilt towards him.  But it's not enough.  I need his weight on me again.

 

He settles lower this time.  I don't know if I like it at first.  But he's kissing at my breasts, his right hand cupping the left while he sucks on the right.

 

I freeze.  Because while I know men like breasts I've always associated them with feeding babies.  But by God it feels so good that my toes curl and I moan out a long breath.

 

"Fuck," he whispers against my breast.  The rush of breath causes me to shiver.  His eyes are wide and his breathing fast.  Something needs to happen soon!

 

He lifts back up, scrambling at my shorts.  I help him push them down.  Although my underwear comes away damp.  I freeze but his groan grabs my attention.  He's licking his lips, shifting in place, and staring at me like a starved wolf stares at a steak.  I shiver.

 

His eyes meet mine, the question there again.  I smile this time.  Something like a relieved laugh escapes, although it's too quiet to be a laugh.  And I tell him, "I trust you!"

 

He licks his lips again.  His gaze once more down below me.  He moves his hand to my inner thigh, pushing my leg out.  I can feel my muscles jumping, my leg shaking.  But it's not from fear.

 

He breaths out a regretful sigh, "I'm gonna eat ya out later, Darlin.  I wanna, Lord knows I wanna.  But next time, I promise."

 

His wistful tone causes a shiver to race up my spine.  I trust him.  I repeat it aloud because he needs me to.

 

His hands are on his belt.  He's hesitating again, his gaze flickering about like he's debating something.  So I sit up, stroking my hand up his chest to his neck.  I tug gently, just enough to get his attention.  This time I stress the words, "I... trust... you!"

 

A gust of breath escapes his lips.  Then I hear a zipper pulled.  I look down to see him pushing his pants down to his knees.  My brain stalls.

 

It's my first time seeing one and all I can think is big.  It's red and swollen with white bubbling at the tip.  The tip is more swollen than the rest, and a thick vein flows down the underside.  It's nestled in a thick patch of curly hair, slightly darker that the rest of his hair.  And I want so badly to touch it.

 

My fingers ghost over the thick muscle, it twitches.  I rub my finger in the liquid pooling at the tip.  Curiosity makes me slip my finger in my mouth.  It's slightly salty, slightly bitter, but not bad.  His moan drags my attention back to him.

 

I worry that i shouldn't have done that but if anything he looks more turned on.  He pushes me back and settles his weight on me again.  His bare heated skin slides against my own.  I shiver at that.  

 

My legs tense against his side.  He leans up on his left arm, again looking me in the face.  I stroke his neck and repeat the words he needs to hear, "I trust you."

 

With a loud swallow, and a sudden look of nervousness, he stresses, "Ain't no commin back from this."

 

I laugh because I get it, I do.  He's worried about me.  But I'm not worried.  I'm not afraid.  I don't need to run away and hide.  I'm safe and happy and I trust him.  Something of that must've translated for him because his nervousness goes away.

 

The first thrust hurts.  Even if I feel wet down there and the slide in was easy.  Something hurt, something he pushed past.  But then he's biting and sucking at my neck and I don't care that something hurt.

 

I don't think about how my parents would be disappointed because they're dead.  I don't think about how Daryl is older than me because it's not important anymore.  All that matters is that this is Daryl and I trust him.  Nothing else matters.

 

The first slide, a slow pull out and a sharp thrust in, earns a gasp.  The second earns a shiver.  I clench my thighs against his hips.  My insides clench around him, as if I could hold him inside me.  He groans long and low next to my ear.

 

His hand is tight on my thigh, pulling my leg up.  So I lift both legs, wrapping them around his waist with my heels settled in the low sweep of his spine.  That movement makes him sink deeper inside.

 

His movements are quicker.  Long pulls out and sharp thrust in.  Each time my body is struck with pleasure like lightening bolts inside me.  And something strong is building, growing stronger.

 

His breath gasps in my ear.  Sweat beads heavily on his skin.  I cling to his arms, his shoulders.  I have a moment to worry that I'm too loud but the worry doesn't hold.  And even as I tense up, some pressure building too strong in my belly, I relax with trust.

 

There's an explosion inside me.  Something that throws me outward, as if my skin can no longer contain my soul.  It's as if I can reach beyond the sky, beyond the stars.  It's too much and it's confusing but it's so amazing that I fall back into it.

 

When I can feel myself again i know that I'm gasping for breath.  I know that Daryl is beside me, holding me tightly to him.  I know that I'm shivering too much and that my privates feel swollen.  I worry about that a little but now I'm just tired.  

 

I blink sleepily at Daryl.  He watches me, stroking my face and my neck.  His hand even trails down my breast to grab at my waist.  Again, there's a question in his eyes.  I smile sleepily, probably silly too, and tell him, "I trust you."

 

He releases a breath as if I've just absolved him of every sin.  His own body relaxes beside me.  So I turn and snuggle closer.  He lets me cling to him because he's clinging to me.  And sleep pulls me under far too quickly for me to stop it.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

Somehow I slept the whole night.  I wake still on the platform with a sleeping bag beneath me and Daryl at my back.  He's dressed and although I'm not I do have a blanket on me.  At least I'm covered.  Because Merle is standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall, and grinning down at me.

 

I check to be sure I'm covered.  Not that I think he would hurt me.  I trust Merle too.  But it's embarrassing to be naked in bed with his brother while he's grinning at me.

 

"Well, Darlin," he drawls smugly.  "Looks like you got some good lovin, didnt'cha?"

 

My cheeks burn but I manage a quiet laugh.  Because he's not being mean.  He's just teasing.  He'll probably say worse to Daryl if he hasn't already.

 

He looks oddly self satisfied as he looks us over.  His eyes lingering on my red face and bare feet.  Then he snorts amused, "You bare as a babe under there, aint'cha?"

 

If anything my cheeks get hotter.  He throws his head back laughing.  Daryl shifts behind me, snapping gruffly, "Aint'cha got nothin better to do?"

 

The laughter cuts off.   He responds with a teasing, "Y'all missed a lot in here."

 

Daryl lifts his head with a glare, a silent 'get on with it'.   Merle tilts his head, part amused and part perplexed, "That cowboy is still gunnin for the CDC.  Deputy dipshit still wants to run offta that base of his, fort somethin or other.  And the spics are headin off for they're family."

 

"What's that gotta do with us?" Daryl scoffs.

 

He grins even if he still looks perplexed, "That's tha thing, ain't it.  They wanna come with us."

 

"What?" Daryl snaps back.

 

Merle shrugs although he doesn't look any less confused.  He rubs his chin, "I guess it was part your shoutin at that cop but I don't know what they're thinking.  There was a big fuss up last night about who to follow.  You shoutin that he's a stranger and that Lori bitch smartin off about how we ain't decent and she don't want us with them no ways."

 

He looks amused.  He settles on the edge of the platform, his hand coming down on my hip only for Daryl to slap it away.  Merle just grins and puts his hand further down on my leg.  Again Daryl slaps his hand away.  So he slips his hand under the blanket and snatches it upwards.

 

Hes not doing it to hurt me.  He doesn't even look down.  But it makes Daryl curse and jump up, slapping the blanket down and tackling Merle to the hall floor.  They struggle for a minute, hitting and shoving at each other but not actually hurting each other.

 

Somehow Merle ends up on top, his arm across Daryls neck as if to choke him but there's no real weight behind it.  Daryl glares back angrily but relented with a snappish, 'Give!'.  So Merle lets him go and they both settle on the edge of the bed.  Daryl puts his hand on my hip, glaring at Merle who grins back.

 

Since they've both calmed down I decide to ask, "So what did everyone decide?"

 

Merle looks down with that smug grin of his, "They asked who'd be in charge and I said we always plan stuff out together since one o' us may know somethin the others don't.  They seemed ta like that.  They said they's gonna follow us."

 

Really?  Because I didn't think anyone in the other group liked us.  So I ask, "Who wants to go with us?"

 

He huffs a sigh, "Blondie and her big sister, though big sister ain't none pleased.  The chink, which b'tween us is a good thing.  That dog fella and the old woman he minds.  And the bruised momma with her lil girl."

 

With Merle you gotta learn to translate names.  He does have trouble with names but it's mostly his own fault.  He doesn't think others are important enough to remember so he doesn't.  Although Daryl admitted that it got worse after he was injured overseas. 

 

You see, Merle was enlisted, marines.  He went out on two tours even.  The first one he got hurt, some car bomb ramming his humvee.  The second time, and the reason for his discharge, was fighting with a superior officer.  And while he doesn't talk about it, whatever reason he had to beat the guy made his discharge be labeled honorable. 

 

But it sounds like Amy, Andrea, Glen, T dog, I think the old woman's name is Jami or something, and Eds woman is Carol with her girl Sophia.  That's a lot of people.  But why in the world do they wanna go with us?  Don't they hate us?

 

Merle and Daryl are having some conversation with glares and blinks.  I'm not sure what is said exactly but Daryl blushes, turning away, while Merle lets out a quiet 'Damn'.

 

So I ask what's the plan.  Merle shrugs, "You's the smart one, Darlin.  What'cha think?"

 

So I think about it.  With the amount of people we can cover a good sized area.  I remember my maps, the two neighborhoods.  The one with the metal fenses is closer but the one with the brick wall has more room for planting and animals.

 

So I tell them to leave me so I can get dressed.  Merle shoots me a lewd grin with a wink but he heads back to the front without argument.  

 

Daryl lingers, shooting me a concerned look.  I offer him a smile to show I'm okay.  He nods, leaving me to head up to the front.

 

I'm not messy.  I thought I would be but I'm clean.  Daryl must've cleaned me up while I slept.  That's actually really sweet.  

 

I slip on some clothes.  Just a dark grey t shirt with Meatloaf on the front and a pair of jean shorts.  Merle whistles when I come past the curtain but a glare from Daryl stops whatever comment he was gonna add.

 

The kids are all on the couch watching a show with a singing fairy and a talking bear.  I don't recognize it but it's keeping them occupied so I leave them to it.  There's two empty boxes of breakfast bars so at least I know they ate something.  

 

I step outside with Daryl at my back.  The group seems pretty tense when we approach.  Lori is nearly spitting nails while her boy Carl looks back stubbornly.  Rick looks stunned.   I ask what happened.

 

It's Lori that spits out, "You have corrupted my son!"

 

"What?" I ask shocked while Daryl snarls angrily.

 

Carl turns to us, "I wanna go with y'all!"

 

Well, damn.  I look at Daryl who is looking back just as lost.  Old rules say the kids parents decide where he goes.  But do old world rules still apply?  

 

I try the only tactic I know, "You don't wanna leave your momma behind, do ya?"

 

He crosses his arms stubbornly, "Were you serious about the CDC blowing up?"

 

"Yes," I sigh out tiredly.  "But I shouldn't've lashed out how I did last night.  The CDC has a generator but only enough fuel for a month, with an extra week at most.  Then the whole thing will blow up, the air burning.  That way the stuff they got in there can't get out."

 

"And how would you know that?" Lori snaps out angrily, judgement heavy in her tone.

 

I meet her glare with one of my own, "Because I ain't an idiot for one.  Anyone with sense would realize that a place that houses such dangerous stuff as the plague will have it rigged to blow.  But for two I took a tour when I chaperones Macy's class trip."

 

She blinks surprised, then glances back towards our RV.  Her tone incredulous, "You took a toddler to the CDC?"

 

I roll my eyes and snap back, "Ain't none of them kids named Macy.  Macy was the daughter of my friend.  She died in a car wreck last year and her daddy didn't know what to do with a girl so I took to watchin her."

 

That's mostly true.  Macy was twelve but her momma was my mommas friend.  And she had five older brothers.  My momma thought I could help her, big sister kinda deal.  So I spent several weekends with her and went on a few class trips too.  

 

Rick clears his throat, trying to sound more in control than he looks, "But the army would've gone to the CDC to protect it.  That's where they'd be holding up.  They'd be protecting our chance at a cure.  And the army would bring fuel for the generators.  It's be safe."

 

I can see that he believes that.  He needs to believe that.  But it's a delusion, a false hope.  And its almost painful to correct him, "They dropped bombs on the city.  Not just Atlanta but all the big ones.  Our church was listen to the radio when they was panicking about Chicago being bombed less than an hour after New York and Washington.  You don't bomb your people if there's a hope of a cure."

 

He swallows, looks away.  He visibly gathers himself, squaring his shoulders,  he argues, "No, they'd hold the CDC.  They may have panicked and bombed the cities.  But the government is hiding in a bunker somewhere and the CDCs will still be working on a cure."

 

He won't change his mind.  He believes it too strongly.  He believes it because he needs to believe it.  And he won't listen to anything different.  So I hold up my hands in surrender, giving up the argument.  It's not my fault if he doesn't want to listen.

 

So I turn to the rest of the group and ask, "Who all's comin with us?  I need to know how many we gonna have."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

 

Another argument came from Lori.  She shouted at the others about betrayal and how disgusted she is with them.  Daryl snapped back that she's half the reason they're jumpin ship.  Which sparked a lot of hateful venom to spew from her mouth.  

 

The two cops, Shane and Rick, herded her away from the group.  Her boy Carl settled next to Sophia, ignoring all the shouting his momma is doing.  The others were pointedly not looking at the scene that really wasn't far enough away.

 

The whole time our group is talking, we got to hear Lori screeching about lazy women (Andrea) who won't help with laundry.  Then she gets on disruptive men (T dog, I think) who question those in authority.  And boy does she go to town about those worthless monstrous redneck (Dixons).

 

I ask Daryl to get my maps and I lead the others over to our yard. Anything to move us further from that crazy woman and whatever drama she's kicking up.  The group somehow includes the old man Dale.  I assumed he was dead when Merle didn't mention him earlier but he's alive and well enough.

 

Our table is clean but one of the chairs is missing.  I look around, noticing several toys missing too.  A whole box is gone as well as one of the cozy cars and one of the bikes.   

 

Daryl hands over the maps and offers a quiet, "They was too dirty.  Too much blood.  Figured you wouldn't wanna keep em."

 

Oh, yeah that makes sense.  So I nod and offer a thank you.  Then I shuffle through the maps until I find the one I want.  I spread it out on the table, motioning the others to gather around.

 

There's some confusion, like they weren't expecting to be involved,  but they move into place.  Glenn at least looks over the map excitedly.  His voice holds a hint of wonder, "You've been marking supply runs and possible safe zones."

 

"Yeah," I answer, "We tried to talk to Shane a dozen times but he wouldn't listen to us.  Anyways, this here is where we'll be goin."

 

I point to the subdivision circled with pink highlighter.  Its relatively small as far as subdivisions go and it's further out but those are a plus.  I explain about how it's a new development.  I tell them about how only seven houses (and two partial) are built with twelve more lots untouched beyond piping and foundation.

 

"You've seen it?  Ain't that a lot of land to secure?" Glenn asks cautiously.

 

"Rich folks like privacy and fenses, Chinaman," a gruff voice calls out.  Merle leans past him, propping his hip on the table with Sarah held up high on his shoulder.  He grins smugly, "They got a brick fence already up.  Ain't that right, Darlin?"

 

The others look at me so I explain, "A man from my church, along with his boys and his brother, worked on them houses.  He talked to my daddy about them.  That they sellin for three hundred plus."

 

"A brick wall?"  Amy repeats dumbly.

 

"You sure it's not taken?" Glenn asks.

 

I shrug, "Might be someone else thinkin like us but I doubt it.  It's out a ways and it was a recent build, you know?  Rich folks evact'd first so I doubt what few home owners is still there."

 

"How tall is the fense?" T dog asks.

 

"Five feet all around with big metal gates at the two entrances," I answer.

 

Andrea whistles, "Damn, that sounds awesome."

 

"Too good to be true," T dog responds with worry heavy in his voice.

 

Again I shrug, "Ain't nothin certain in this world no more.  We gotta take the chance."

 

"What are these?" Glenn asks, pointing to three more pink circles on the map.  

 

"Back up plans," I answer.  "If for whatever reason that one's a dud we can try another."

 

"Did you show these to Shane?" Carol asks quietly.  Her hands still tight around her daughter.

 

"Deputy Dipshit wouldn't listen to us no-how," Merle spits out.

 

"There'll be rules," Merle warn them.  "This ain't no free ride.  Everybody's gotta learn to fight.  Everybody's gotta work together.  If y'all comin with us then y'all gotta respect the rules, no bitin the hand that feeds ya."

 

"What rules?" Andrea asks suspiciously.

 

I answer, "First would be that everybody works together.  This ain't gonna clear up in our lifetime.  We gotta think long term so we gotta plan and settle up for long term."

 

There's some grumbling but no outright refusal or argument.  They're not denying the need.  They just don't want to believe it.  But after the attack I think they realize the truth of it.

 

"Everyone will learn to fight," I add.  "Merle's got trainin so he'll be in charge of that.  Daryl will be in charge of huntin and trapin animals and Glenn will be in charge of supply runs."

 

Glenn blinks up at me, surprised but pleased.  More so when Merle slaps his back and growls a warning to the others, "So if ya on a run and Chinaman here says jump, ya don't argue or twiddle your thumbs.  Ya hop to it, ya hear?"

 

That gains surprised looks from the others but theyre quick to agree.  Ms. Jackie, the older black woman, says she used to have a garden so I tell her to make a list of what we'd need to get started and we'll pick up what we can along the way.

 

Then I go back to rules, "We'll follow commandments, so to speak.  Don't kill, don't thieve, don't betray kinda stuff.  Beyond that, any big decisions will come at the table like this.  Y'all good?"

 

Several heads nod agreement.  So we move on to vehicles.  We have our two RVs plus Dales, the Dixons truck, and two cars.  Dale comments that he don't think his RV will make the trip.  Apparently it breaks down all the time.

 

This sparks a soft debate in the group and a silent one between the brothers.  Merle sighs, turning to the group he says, "We gonna move all our shit into the one RV.  That way y'all can load up the othern.  Old man and blondes can use his RV.  It ain't a hard fix if it stops.  And Blackies with Chinaman, Momma, and her girl get our RV.  Sound good?"

 

Hands pull at my leg so I lift up the kid, Evelyn.  I glance up in time to see several surprised looks pass back and forth.  Probably because the brothers are willing to give up something of theirs.  And T dog even offers a surprised thank you.

 

Merle waves them away, patting Daryls shoulder as he passes.  They both move to their RV.  No doubt they will start moving supplies.  Hopefully soon we'll get to going.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

 

It's nearly noon when we finally get going.  Glenn and T dog both helped fold up the table, chairs, and canopies.  Then they tossed them up on top of the RV and tied them down with the clothes line rope.  

 

Carol helped me sort the toys.  A few I tossed away.  A doll with blood splatter on its dress, a teacup with something red and meaty in it, and a truck still sticky with blood.  The clean toys get shoved in boxes on the RV or in the back trailer.

 

Daryl and Merle aren't idle.  They're dragging bag after bag and shoving them in the trailer.  It fills up faster than we'd like.  So I get the kids to help me move the mattress back on the bed and refold the couch.  They're not that good at helping but they sure are proud to help.

 

In fact, when I glance out I see Emmett carrying a small grocery bag full of chips and dogging Daryls steps.  Sarah just follows Merle, not helping but careful not to get underfoot.

 

We get a few odd looks at the amount of stuff the brothers are moving but no one questions it.  Especially when one bag rips open and jeans spill out.  Ms Jackie stops to help Daryl pick those up.

 

Once the brothers get their stuff out, they help the others load their stuff up.  It's mostly backpacks and bags.  There isn't much but they do get a few thank you's for the help.  Merle even helps T dog hook up his car to the back of the RV.  

 

Merle leads our procession in their truck.  Our RV is next with Dale behind us and the other RV following with T dog and Glenn driving a car at the back.  That way if Dale breaks down we won't risk leaving them.  And we even passed walkie talkies to each cab.  They're bright yellow with cartoons on the back but Merle rigged them to the same station so we can keep in touch.

 

On a normal day it would take us an hour to reach our destination but with the world as it is we figure well get there late evening or early tomorrow.  The interstate is blocked on one side so we drive the other for ten minutes.  Them we take the off ramp on a small two lane road.

 

The first thirty minutes go by quickly and we get hopeful that we'll get there soon.  But just over a forty five minutes after heading out, we hit a snag.  We're close, without this hold up it would only take us fifteen minutes more.  But there's no help for it. 

 

Cars backed up for what looks like a mile.  An intersection totally blocked with cars, all bumper to bumper and several with doors open.  And stores on all sides. It's open and dangerous but it's how we gotta go. 

 

There's a gas station on both corners, this side of the light.  There's a strip of buildings on the left, only two on the right.  And beyond the light are four restaurants, and a small town grocery store.  And for some reason there aren't any Cursed around.

 

Merle calls the others to follow him and clear a path.  He also warns them not to use a gun but to use a knife if they need to.  When Glenn says he doesn't have one Merle tosses him one still in a sheath.  

 

Then he asks who else needs one.  All of the others raise their hand which earns an annoyed huff from Daryl and mutters from Merle about dipshit deputies and foolish civvies.  I trust them to handle things so I go back inside.

 

I call the kids to supper and drag Amy and Carol in to help.  Mac and cheese, which somehow is still their favorite, is served up.  Then I hand two boxes to Carol, asking her to cook that up for everybody else in a couple hours while I go help.

 

The others weren't being idle.  They've been pushing the cars off of the road to clear a path down the middle.  Dale sits up on his RV keeping watch while Jackie is up in the back of Merle's truck doing the same.

 

I take a basket, the one the babies sleep in, and go sorting through the cars.  I also call out to Merle to take what fuel we can from these cars.  He hollars back that that's the plan.  So I keep going through the cars for supplies.

 

The first few only have clothes.  The third had a first aid kit and a hunting knife.  The fourth is a payload.  Dozens of cans in cardboard trays like the stores keep them in all fill up the trunk beside two cases of bottled water.  I carry it all back to the RV.

 

Carol is surprised at the food and comes to help me, carrying an extra laundry basket of her own.  That leaves Amy with the kids but I tell Sophia to take the older kids to the bedroom and put on a movie.  She nearly vibrates in place when she learns that we can actually watch movies.  So I tell her to take her pick.

 

Carol follows me back to the cars.  She takes one side while I take the other.   We catch up to the guys soon enough.  The sun is sinking lower and the others haven't eaten yet so I order everyone to pack it in and we'll finish tomorrow.

 

Carol lets out a curse, she didnt cook the food.  But when we get back its on the stove still warm.   There's also a pot of green beans and another of corn.  And the Tupperware bowl of cornbread muffins is out on the table.

 

Amy blushes, "I figured y'all would be hungry so I cooked it."  

 

Andrea squeezes her tight.  And there's plenty of compliments on the bread since that's been scarce.  And once the brothers have their plates they go out to keep watch.  Dale comes in a moment later.  

 

It's crowded in here, and warm from so many people in a small area.  But childish laughter drifts up from the back and soon the adults are smiling and chatting away.

 

It was a good day.  Even if we didn't reach safety yet, were doing okay.  And I tell the others that tomorrow we're going to split into two groups.  One to keep pushing cars while the other goes through the stores nearby.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

 

I wake early with Merle draped half on top of me.  I blink confused at that because it was Daryl that I fell asleep with.  The kids are all sleeping in the back bed while we laid down on the fold out couch.

 

Then I remember that we're on the road and Merle ordered two people on watch at all times.  Merle and Glenn to start with Daryl and T dog taking the early morning.  And with the brightness of the sun peaking over the buildings I'd say that morning is well on its way.

 

I push Merle awake.  It's not easy.  He's as grumpy as a hibernating bear when he sleeps good.  But he does wake with a jaw cracking yawn and stumble down the hall to the toilet.

 

I look for the babies but the basket isn't where I left it.  I check at the front seats and under the table.  I even run to the back but theyre not there.  The two smallest, Imogene and Kendall are missing.

 

Merle grabs my arm, "Damn, Darlin, what's wrong?"

 

"The babies!" I gasp out, choking on panic, "I can't find the babies!"

 

He looks past me to the bed holding the other five.  I can see him checking them off in his head.  There's the oldest boy Micah and the younger Emmett.  Then theres Merle's little angel, Sarah, and the sisters Abigale and little Evelyn.  But no little babies.

 

His face pales and his grip tightens.  He hurries to the front, pulling me with him.  His eyes searching the room just as I did and coming to the same conclusion, they aren't here.

 

A noise escapes him, something wounded.  Then he's rushing out the door, gun drawn.  I follow, having to run to keep up.  He swings up the ladder and is halfway up shouting at Daryl when his brother hisses for him to calm down.

 

But I see him, Daryl, holding Imogene with a bottle in her mouth.  I can breath but damn am I mad.  "What in the hell were you thinking?!"

 

He blinks surprised at me.  That just makes me madder.  Although Merle slumps in relief, "Damn, brother, we couldn't find the babies."

 

Daryls face softens as he admits, "They was fussing and I didn't want em to wake ya so I brought em up here.  They okay though, I promise."

 

I'm shaking and angry and relieved.  I'm crying without even knowing why I'm crying.  Merle and Daryl both let loose a curse.  

 

Merle reaches me first, mostly because he was only half up the ladder.  His hand grips the back of my neck and he holds me tight.  The other arm wraps around my shoulders.   I'm shaking and crying and it's too much to stop.  

 

Daryl is there, pressing against my back with a baby still in his arms.  Her little legs kick at me, wanting attention.  I turn, they let me, and pull the baby against my chest.  I just need to hold her.

 

Imogene is a tiny thing with barely any hair and wide blue eyes.  Her movements still uncoordinated but with a clear motive.  She knows what she wants she just can't say it.  Doesn't stop her from yammering on in that language all babies have.

 

But I need Kendall too.  Daryl releases me to step back.  He clicks a buckle on his chest, opening it.  That's when I realize he has the carrier on his back.  Merle moves to put a hand on his back when he turns, holding the baby up.  And Daryl twists to pull her free.

 

Kendall is bigger than Imogene.  Imogene is blue eyed blonde like her momma and older sisters.  Kendall has dark black hair from her daddy, although hers is thin and barely there, and light brown eyes.  Holding them together is night and day.  Beautiful and equal but opposite in looks.

 

I hold them both close, letting them settle high on my chest, side by side with their heads turned to face each other.  They're really getting too big for this.  But somehow it only feels right to carry them together.

 

Arms band around my waist followed by a loud click.  I watch as Daryl manuvers the carrier into place.  Its a backpacks like one that clips around the waist as well as clipping between the shoulder straps. And when he holds up the straps I slip my arms through them.  Merle at my back snaps the link between the shoulder straps to hold it all in place.

 

They're really getting too big to stay side by side but for now this works.  Although I make a mental note to look for another carrier soon.  Maybe a few more just to be safe.  Yes, that's what we'll do.

 

"Y'all okay?" T dog asks.

 

I glance over to see him watching us worriedly.  The others not far behind.  I scrub at my cheeks and sniff loudly but I'm calm now, no more panic. 

 

"Didn't know Daryl took the babies," Merle answers softly.  As if the reminder would set me off again.

 

But I have them back in my arms so I'm okay now.  I've got them and they're safe.  I sniff again and mumble an excuse to get food ready.  They let me slip away even if their hands linger a moment longer.

 

I shouldn't have panicked like that but I couldn't help it.  I'm responsible for these kids.  I have to keep them safe.  I can't handle it if anything happens to them.  

 

I try to shake it off.  I need to focus.  So I gather up six bags of muffin mix, the kind you just need to add water to make.  Carol, Sophia, and Jackie step inside.  I hand them each a bag and a bowl.  Sophia even gets the muffin tins and the cupcake liners and sets them up on the table.

 

By the time they are done, the others have cleared enough cars to get past the light.  There's more still, perhaps a half days work.  Then we can move on.  

 

Daryl comes back with Andrea, Amy, and Glenn.  He says he's taking them into the stores for supplies and asks which should they check first.  I suggest the gas station and tell them that this is close enough we can come back for more later.  He agrees with that.

 

I catch him before he leaves and press a kiss to his cheek, "I'm sorry I yelled and I'm sorry I panicked.  I don't know why but my head told me the dead ate them and I couldn't think past that."

 

He hugs me close, his lips press to my ear as he says, "S'alright, Darlin, is my fault.  I shoulda realized that but I wasn't thinkin."

 

I turn my head to press a kiss to his lips.  He hesitates, eyes meeting mine with a question burning in them.  I smile and tell him, "I trust you, Daryl Dixon."

 

He relaxes, his lips quirk into a smile.  Then he ducks his head and kisses me proper.  A strong heady kiss with his hands tight on my waist even as he's careful of the babies. 

 

I pull him close, breath in his scent as we're kissing.  It washes away the rest of my fear.  His hands run down over my butt to grab at the back of my thighs and with a tug and a hop from me, he lifts me up.  

 

The kiss doesn't stop.  My legs wrap tightly around him and my hands scratch at his scalp.  One of his hands squeezes my thigh while the other grips a handful of my hair.

 

He tugs, the hand holding my hair.  It's just enough to break the kiss and have me tilt my head back.  His mouth latches onto my neck, sucking and biting at the skin.  I shiver, tightening my legs 

 

When he pulls back its to grin smugly down at me.  I grin back, proud that I've made him smile.  His hand slides soothingly down my back.  And with a soft pat to my bottom, I uncross my ankles and let myself drop to the ground.

 

He presses another quick kiss to my lips before pulling away.  His eyes bright and happy, so that I gain a bounce in my step.  And when I toss him a muffin he catches it with a smile.

 

Sophia is giggling and Carol blushes but doesn't comment.  And back in the bedroom the kids are waking up, grumbling sleepily and wanting attention.  We all have our jobs to do and Sophia follows to help me while Carol and Jackie leave to take muffins to everyone else.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

 

It's not perfect but damn does it look nice.  The area all around it cleared where the developers were wanting to expand.  There's the five foot tall brick wall but it doesn't go all the way around.  There's about fifty feet open on the far end.  And while there are two large metal gates there is also an open archway between them and the wall where a sidewalk trails out.

 

There are weaknesses.  Plenty of things we need to work on quickly.  But Merle points out the three tarp covered piles as well as the concrete mixer and two trucks parked near them.  We have work to do but there are supplies to work with.  

 

I'm not the only one looking around in awe.  Jackie starts crying.  Glenn seems trapped between falling to his knees and bouncing in excitement which leaves him swaying oddly.  And Amy and Andrea are laughing and dancing.

 

We made good time getting here so there's still a few hours of daylight left.  But it's not enough to get work done.  So I make the suggestion, "We should move us all into one house.  The far one with it's own fence.  And keep one person on watch in that top balcony."

 

The others look at the house I point out.  It's a tall thing, three stories high.  With a dark sloped roof and a central door with the wall on either side curving outward like the base of a tower.  There's a balcony above the door, what would be the third story,  and a lot of large windows.  It's beautiful, even from a distance.

 

Merle steps up, command entering his voice, "Okay people, let's get everyone safe inside.  Me and Daryl will take point.  Old man, you're on watch again.  Momma and lil' girl, y'all got babies.  Everyone else with us."

 

I still have the babies sleeping in the carriers on my chest but I accept the gun that Merle passes to me.  We move out, slipping through the archway and up the street.  I stay close to their backs, Amy at my side, with Jackie and Andrea behind me, then T dog and Glenn at the back.

 

It's quiet, eerily quiet.  But there is no blood smears, no half eaten corpses, and no Cursed walkers stumbling about.  We keep our weopens up and stay tense for a fight but so far, so good.

 

It's not far to the house, we pass three to get to it.  And it feels bigger up close.  But we get inside and split off.  I go with the brothers upstairs while Merle sends the women to check the main floor and tells the guys to check the kitchen and back yard.

 

There's furniture here but it's all new, it all smells new.  There's a living room set, white leather couches and powder blue low backed chairs around a cherry wood coffee table and a blue and cream area rug.  The flooring itself is hardwood, stained dark which is beautiful against the stark white walls.  

 

The banister is thick white rail with dark wooden columns to match the dark wooden stairs.  A cream colored carpet, thin and sponge like, rolls down the steps like a waterfall, perfectly in place.

 

There are no pictures on the walls.  Nothing personal yet.  And the top of the stairs opens to a sitting area complete with navy blue chairs and a glass and silver coffee table.  Daryl scoffs at the wasted space, no doubt.  And I agree that this is an odd place to put a sitting area.

 

Three doors lead off of the right, a small walkway to the left with more.  The first door on the right curves back into a bedroom.  The middle is a deep bathroom and the third is another bedroom.  None of these are furnished beyond simple mattress sets and shower curtain.

 

The walkway has a set of double doors that open onto a master suite that Merle whistles at.  Daryls raised eyebrows show he's impressed.  And the bathroom has a deep claw footed tub that could fit two easily.  I moan at the sight.

 

Merle laughs, "Damn, Darlin, you cummin from this fancy ass room?"

 

I turn back with a glare, "This here is our house now and I want a bath in that there tub soon."

 

He and Daryl both laugh which makes me laugh too.  And while I'm serious, because by God am I serious, they know I'm just teasing.  

 

We leave the master suite to check the end of the walkway.  Three more doors come off of it.  One has a crib but nothing else.  Just a simple white crib in the far corner of the room.  Then theres a bathroom with only a shower curtain, bright red this time.  And last is another room that's decked out like an office.  It has a desk, chair, and filing cabinet as well as a calender on the wall.

 

There's a small staircase, only a few steps, that lead to the balcony at the front of the house.  And the balcony is both outside and in.  That is, there is a small area, the same size as the balcony, that overlooks the living room just as the balcony overlooks the yard.  

 

I realize that the house isnt three stories, its two.  Only this place has ten foot tall ceilings on the second floor, twelve foot tall on the first.  Why would they make it so big?  This isn't usable space.  It's just a waste.

 

Daryl settles on the balcony, hawk like gaze scouring the area.  He's tense but not alarmed or afraid so I know we're safe.

 

I follow Merle down the steps to the living room.  The others are there, wide eyed and a little confused.  It's Andrea who says, "I think it's a model home.  Only it doesn't seem really decorated well, does it?"

 

Merle shrugs.  He doesn't care either way.  As long as the place is usable we can make due.  But he waves the others to follow him back down to the gates, telling me to stay with Daryl until they get everyone up here.

 

I make it to the balcony before they get halfway to the gate.  Daryl glances back, offers a tight smile so I ask what he thinks.  He shrugs but I nudge him.  After all its just the two of us.

 

With a sigh he answers, "Too rich for my blood, Darlin.  Too big and useless too.  But if ya like it we'll stay."

 

I press against his side, careful of the babies in my arms.  He's so wonderful, they both are.  It doesn't matter if they aren't comfortable or if they don't like something.  They'll go along with it because I asked.  But I want him to be happy too.  

 

So I ask, "Would you rather pick another one?"

 

He shifts, his gaze darting around.  But it settles on a house on the far end.  It's the last complete house, the two incomplete ones are across the street.  And there is a flat area nearby encircled by sidewalk that is probably meant to be a park.

 

As for the house itself, its average with the others.  The front is pale brick and the windows are large but it doesn't have a balcony like this one.  It doesn't have a fenced in yard but it does have a good view of the whole area and it wouldn't be the first point of attack if enemies come.

 

That's the problem, isn't it.  He thinks this house would paint a target on us.  So he wants to move us to a house that would be overlooked.  He wants us to be safe for as long as possible.

 

"Then we'll take that one," I offer happily.

 

I tug him down for a kiss.  He starts in surprise but is quick to enjoy.  He scoops me up, pressing my back against the wall and grinding his hips to mine.  

 

I gasp. Not expecting that.  And there's a moment of confusion about whether or not we should be doing this.  But I would've only had sex after marriage and since I've had sex with him then I should be with him.  It would only be a sin if we treat it like one.  Right?

 

I trust him.  That's my fall back.  He and Merle keeps us safe.  They care about us.  So if Daryl wants me to be his then I'm okay with that.  Because I want to be his, and I want him to be mine.  We're family now.  And I'm okay with that.

 

Dinner is a lively affair.  There's plenty of food.  We cook lemon chicken with rice, green beans, carrots, and cornbread muffins.  And laughter echoes against the tall walls.

 

The others look around amazed, especially the kids.  And with this much inside room to run and play, they are soon louder than ever.  Merle might shush them a little but even he won't stop their playing.  

 

And we all bed down upstairs for safety.  We claim the master suite.  Merle and Daryl chase the kids inside to contain them.  The others take the rooms to the right.  The guys take the first room and the women take the second.

 

Merle even drags the crib in from the other room so the babies can sleep in it.  I make a pile of sleeping bags and blankets in the corner behind the bed.  That way if anything comes in we will be between the threat and the children.  I change them into pajamas and sing them a lullibye, the wanderers lullibye, to help them settle.  They fall asleep easily, exhausted from all the running and playing they did since we got here.    

 

Merle takes first watch, warning Daryl that he'll be back after midnight but that Glenn will take next shift.  Daryl flips him off but doesn't comment.  I crawl into bed with Daryl after casting one last glance around to be sure the kids are safe.

 

I'm not surprised when he pulls me close, his mouth latching onto my neck.  I turn towards him, thrilled that he is mine and I'm his.  Momma and daddy wouldn't approve but I don't care.  I'm safe here and I trust him.  


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

 

Carol takes over breakfast today.  The kids all settle on the floor in the corner, farthest from the patio doors.  Although they all keep twisting and looking at the soft grass outside.  And as soon as everyone has eaten I call their attention.

 

"Okay," I begin slowly.  "We got a lot to get done today.  Carol, you and Jackie stay here with the kids.  You may want to let them loose out there at some point."

 

That earns laughter since the kids have been restlessly edging closer the whole morning.  Both women nod their agreement.

 

"Dale, you're on watch in the balcony," I tell him, waiting for his nod before moving on.  "The rest of us are gonna split into two teams and get the holes in the wall closed up."

 

Laughter cuts off at the reminder that we're still vulnerable.  I continue, "Merle, T dog, Andrea, and Glenn, y'all are gonna get started on the huge part of the wall missing.  There's supplies under them tarps.  Let's hope it's plenty of wood and bricks."

 

I turn to Daryl, "Me, Amy, and Daryl are gonna go to the gates and seal up them arches.  And if we can were gonna do something to close up the gates so nothing can reach through them bars too."

 

Merle claps his hands with a call to work so everyone starts moving.  First we move as a group to the half finished houses and the tarps.  Just as Merle thought, one pile is bricks, another cement bags, and the third is two by fours.

 

Merle starts shooting off commands to get everyone moving, loading up the truck.  We all pitch in to help.  And once the truck is weighed enough that Merle calls a stop, he drives down to the gates.  There he dumps out as much as he can with us helping pull the stuff down.

 

Daryl, Amy, and I stay while the others follow the truck back up to the supplies.  Daryl puts Amy on mixing cement.  He empties a bag into a bucket and pulls a hose close.  

 

Of course the water doesn't work and I can see him smacking himself mentally at that misstep.  But Amy and I run back up to the RVs and pull a few water jugs, the size of milk jugs, out.  

 

She looks around startled, letting out a squeaked, "Where did you get all this?"

 

I frown but looking in I can see why.  I don't want to lie to her so I admit the truth, "We brought it with us from the start.  We didn't trust y'all not to take our stuff and cast us out so we kept it quiet."

 

She frowns at that but doesn't argue.  Although when we're halfway down she does ask, "I thought you said they don't make you do anything but cooking and laundry."

 

"That's right," I reply, confused at her tone.

 

She eyes me shrewdly, "Then why are you screwing them?"

 

I laugh at that but she just frowns.  When I ask if she's serious she replies, "We know you and Daryl had sex at the quarry.  You weren't quiet that time.  And I heard you last night."

 

I frown back at her, "Well yeah, but that was also with Daryl."

 

She blinks confused, "I thought Daryl had watch?"

 

I shake my head, "Merle took it.  Said Daryl needed to stay put for the night but I think it was just him givin his blessin."

 

She shifts the water, struggling somewhat with the weight.  "But you let them both touch you."

 

My confusion must be shown because she adds, "The night of the attack, Daryl held you but Merle had a hold of your neck.  And you jumped up on Merle when he came back safe And I know he stayed the night with you.  And Shane said he walked around, patrolling after the attack, and you was in the bed between them both.  And yesterday when you thought the babies were gone, Merle had a hold of you then."

 

I stop walking.  Is that what they think?  They think because I show concern, affection, that I'm screwing them both?  Everything going on and they're gonna be gossiping about stupid shit like that.

 

I stomp off, unwilling to answer.  Daryl frowns when he sees my face, silently asking what's wrong.  But I shake my head, refusing to answer.  I'm not gonna get him upset over their stupidity.

 

Instead, I dump one of the water jugs up, emptying half into the bucket.  Daryl already has a metal rod stuck in there for mixing so I give it a few rough swirls.  

 

Amy sidles up, her water sitting next to the rest.  She wrings her hands, an apology falling quietly from her lips.  I glare back and hiss, "You're as prejudice as the rest of them!"

 

Then I turn away, ignoring her.  Daryl has bricks ready and moves the bucket closer.  He tells Amy to go help her sister, we got this.  She shifts from foot to foot but eventually walks off.

 

He doesn't ask.  He stirs the bucket until the cement is mixed enough, then he grabs something like a metal spatula and starts work.  The first layer, thick as yogurt, goes on the sidewalk while I shove bricks into place.  He corrects me only when I need it but for the most part we are just completing what the builders already had done.

 

Work is silent but steady.  And even though we're called in at lunch I shake my head so Daryl stays too.  I tell him he could go but I know he won't.  I just don't want to look at them right now.  

 

I do tell him.  Because by that point I need to let it out.  The words are hissed through gritted teeth.  And when he tenses I understand why.  But that's not why I'm mad.

 

So I explain, "I don't care what they think of me.  They dont matter.  I just hate how they automatically think the worst of you two.  As if I wouldn't worry about the two people who saved me, who protect me, who became my family!  As if the only reason you two would help me is if I was sleeping with you both.  I hate the way they think of yall!"

 

He looks away, "We thought about it."

 

I glance over confused.  Again he looks away, "Me and Merle, we talked about it, about sharin ya.  We wouldn't' ve forced ya but we did talk about sharin ya."

 

"Why?" I ask curiously.  I'm not mad, I just want to understand.

 

He licks his lips and rubs at his thighs nervously.  Then he focuses all of his attention on the work although he answer, "You're mighty fine, Darlin, ain't gonna lie about that.  We both thought so.  And you're smart, real smart.  You think o' things we don't.  And Merle reasoned that with the world gone to shit if we wanna keep ya we gotta keep ya good and happy."

 

He looks over at me then.  Embarrassed and a little ashamed but he holds my gaze as he tells me, "Way we figure it, if it ain't one o' us then you'll run off with someone else and we'd loose ya and them kids.  Y'all family now and family takes care o' their own.  So we agreed that we'd be tha ones to take care o' your needs."

 

I have to think that through a minute.  But then a thought hits me and I have to ask, "Is that why we had sex?  You think I'll leave if you don't what... pleasure me?"

 

"Oh he'll, Darlin," he throws down a brick, angry now.  "I wanted ya, I already said that.  I wanted ya and ya said ya was willin.  Ya said ya trust me."

 

I touch his arms, its enough to make him freeze.  Because he would never hurt me.  The familiar words tumble out, "I trust you, Daryl Dixon.  I trust you and I don't want to leave.  You don't owe me nothin, and I don't owe you nothin.  Right?  We're just two people together makin a family.  Right?  Cause I don't plan to leave unless it's with our family."

 

He pulls me close, squeezing me tight in a hug.  His mouth finds mine.  And like with so many things, he communicates best without words.  So I try to let it show in my kiss, in my touch, how I feel about him.  There is no uncertainty, no fear.  Only trust.

 

He slows the kiss and eventually pulls back.  Even though we're both breathing heavy and his lips look red and swollen so mine probably look worse.  But he smiles at me.  That rare relaxed smile with just a hint of smug satisfaction.

 

With a slap at my butt he tells me to get back to work.  I laugh but agree.  And thankfully this side is as far up as we can go.  So Daryl shoves as much of the concrete into the curved gap as he can.  That way there will be no holes.  

 

I carry a few loads of bricks over to the other side, setting them in place so I'll just need the concrete to bind them.  He joins me with the bucket, emptying another bag into it and adding water until he's happy.  

 

Then he's slathering the stuff thick on the sidewalk beneath the arch and I start placing the bricks.  The work is repetitive and a bit mind numbing but it's also nice to sit out here doing this with him.  We send each other smiles, hands drifting often to arms or legs.  And several times one of us lean forward to steal a kiss.  

 

By the time were done and the second archway is closed, the sun is going down.  We hurry back to the house.  Something of a race ending when he lifts me up to spin in the yard.  We're both laughing and stumbling over each other when we get inside.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, the comments and kudos are awesome😊💐💐💐 thank you all for the reviews and i hope you like whats next😊

Chapter 25

 

We get inside to some shamed faces and an annoyed Merle.  The kids aren't underfoot but no one looks panicked.  Merle answers without being asked, "Kids upstairs and settled for bed.  Plates on the counter for yall."

 

"What happened here?" I ask, because it's clear there's a lot of tension in the room.

 

Andrea huffs angrily, her arms crossed over her chest, "It was an honest misunderstanding."

 

"Y'all a bunch of nosey perverts," Merle snaps back.

 

I don't even have time to ask what when he tells me.  Apparently, Merle overheard Amy telling Andrea what I said to her. Then Andrea argued that everyone thought the same.  Somehow, the whole group came to believe I'm screwing both brothers because of my reaction when Merle got back and that he's usually the first to go to me when I'm upset. 

 

Then T dog of all people admits that Amy told them that the Dixons found me and the kids. I glare at her for that. At least she has the decency to look down ashamed. But then Andrea smarts off that why else would the brothers hang around if they aren't getting something.

 

I lunge at her but Daryl snatches me back. He's growling that they'd never force a woman and Andrea is shouting, "Ain't that why shes screwing you? Payment for protection?"

 

He actually lets me go. So when I swing at her, snarling angrily, it's Merle that snatches me back with an annoyed huff. Not that he's not pissed because it's obvious that he is. But he gives Daryl a look of reprimand for letting me go. And Merle is way too strong for me to break his hold.

 

Dale stands with hands raised, trying to instill peace. And I start shouting at them, "Y'all are some of the most judgemental asshole I've ever met! Neither Merle or Daryl would hurt me. Hell, they saved us! Protected us! And didn't ask a damn thing in return except that I cook their food. Y'all the asshole thinking about abusin folks. Somethin wrong with all yall!"

 

It's an annoying mess.  And while Merle has apparently been snapping at them since lunch, which is apparently when he learned of it, they are still convinced of their assumptions.  Merle is mad about it, that's obvious.  But it's for the same reason Daryl was mad.  And at this point, I'm too tired to fight them on it.

 

So I drag Merle and Daryl upstairs with a shout that T dog has first watch and Glenn has next.  Merle stomps up the stairs like an angry bull grumbling about judgemental people and the stupid bullshit they come up with.  Daryl doesn't comment although he doesn't look any more comfortable.

 

The kids are asleep when we get up there.  I'm surprised but Merle whispers that ms. Jackie came up singing to them a half hour ago because they played so much today that it knocked them out.  

 

We crawl into bed, Merle only hesitates a moment.  So I reach over to grip his arm and tell him, "I don't care what they think of me.  And honestly we got bigger worries than them gossiping even if it's annoying."

 

He huffs angrily in agreement.  "I can sleep on the floor," he offers hesitantly.  "I ain't gotta sleep in the bed with yall."

 

My grip tightens, "Dont... don't leave.  I don't care about them.  I care about you and Daryl and our kids.  Because we're family and family sticks together, right?"

 

He lets out a breath, relieved.  This really had him worried.  Worried that he would get shoved aside.  Worried that he would loose us both, maybe.  And he's still mad at the group, no doubt they fed his fears.

 

Daryl realizes the same because he grumbles, "Can't chase ya off cause who else gonna watch our back."

 

And in typical Dixon fashion, that was just what he needed.  He settles, turns towards us and throws an arm over my waist.  I pull him closer, letting him rest his head on my chest, and offer, "You are mine, Merle, just as I'm yours.  Daryl and you both belong to me and the kids just like all of us belong to the two of you.  And to hell with them idiots downstairs.  What they think don't matter.  If you want, well leave.  There are other places we can go.  We can leave them to themselves."

 

He huffs, a gust of breath against my neck.  But with a sigh he says, "Naw, we need the bodies and this place is good for us.  We can make it work.  And they'll get it eventually."

 

I press a kiss to the top of his head which earns a teasing, "Careful, Darlin, or ol' Merle might think you want em."

 

Daryl slaps his shoulder in reprimand but I just huff a laugh.  Merle would never hurt me, I know that.  Just as I know the sky is blue and the living are as much a danger as the dead.  Yeah, I know Merle and I trust him completely.

 

I rub my cheek against the top of his head because the guys accept touch better than words.  And Merle likes hugging and cuddling more than Daryl.  Although I don't ignore Daryl.  

 

I reach for him, pulling his arm until he turns on his side and throws an arm around my waist.  That makes Merle let go, shift higher on the bed so his head is on the pillow. Although he keeps a hand on my stomach.   
Neither will settle unless they're touching some part of me.  And we fall asleep like that, with both of them holding me.  It's the only time I ever feel completely safe.

 

Morning comes with screaming babies.  The sun is up, barely, but Kendall and oddly enough Evelyn are both screaming their heads off.  It's sudden, and startling in the shrill loudness of it.  Daryl reaches the baby bed first so I go to Evelyn.

 

Thin pale blonde hair in disarray, big blue eyes red from crying, and drool soaking the front of her shirt.  Her face is flushed and she's sweating some.  I check her diaper, change her, but it doesn't help.  I try holding and bouncing her and she holds tight but keeps crying loudly.

 

Daryl holds Kendall who's still crying.  He catches my look, confused as well.  Kendall has her fist in her mouth, screaming high pitched.  

 

Then it hits me.  The drool, the screaming, the sweating... they're teething!  

 

Merle is herding the others down stairs.  Wide confused eyes looking around, not understanding the cause of all the noise.  I have to shout to be heard over them, "They need medicine.  They're teething."

 

"We got any?" Daryl shouts back.

 

"Yeah, I filled a bag with baby toys and medicine,"  I shout back.  "It'll be in the trailer, black trash bag."

 

Merle shouts, "I'll get it!"

 

Walking and bouncing doesn't help really.  And both refuse pacifiers.  Kendall starts throwing herself back and forth while Evelyn starts biting at my shoulder only to pull back and scream.

 

Daryl is glancing around, overwhelmed.  Neither brother does well with crying or screaming women or kids.  So I wave him to hand her over.  

 

He hesitates.  He knows I'm out of my depth too.  But he's panicking and doesn't know how to sooth her and he can't handle not being able to help.  So he passes her over, an apologetic look in his eyes.  Then he races out.

 

Another cry comes from the baby bed.  We forgot Imogene.  I blink dumbly at her.  But my arms are full, I can't lift her too. What do I do now?

 

The door opens, Carol peaking in with a worried look.  I nearly sag in relief, "They're teethin, can you help?"

 

She blinks startled, taking in the two screaming babies in my arms and sparing a glance at the third crying in the crib.  The she squares her shoulders and reaches for Evelyn.  I suppose she takes her because Evelyn is the biggest and currently trying to thrash herself out of my hold.  So it's a relief to hand her over.

 

I watch her a moment, long enough to be sure she's got her.  Then I scoop up Imogene to hold next to Kendall.  With the two of them, their weight is more familiar so I hold them easier.  

 

We head downstairs, Carol following behind.  She does ask softly, "What's her name?"

 

"Evelyn," I answer.  "You're holdin Evelyn.  These are Imogene and Kendall."

 

I try to nod to them but I'm not sure she sees.  I hear her talking softly, soothingly to Evelyn.  It seems to help.  Either that or she's crying herself down.  But Kendall is still going strong and they both need medicine.

 

The front door is wide open.  Various trash bags litter the yard with people tearing them open and pulling out the contents.  Amy gives a yelp when the bag she opens spills out piles of pregnancy tests, creams, and sex gels.

 

But that's good because the other bag was close.  Another bag flies past, Merle tossing them from the trailer in a panic.  Daryl isn't out here but a curse from the open door of the RV tells me where he is.  And he better not be trashing my RV!  That's our home!

 

Glen gives a triumphant shout, holding up a pack of pacifiers.  So I hurry to him.  The others doing the same and soon his bag is completely shredded, the contents scattered.

 

I shout over them, "Look for Tylenol, baby Tylenol with a dropper in the box.  And origel!  Look for teething gel."

 

Now there's a bit more method to their madness.  Daryl and Merle both hovering over the group.  T dog lifts the box of Tylenol only for Merle to snatch it and rip it open.

 

"Only to the first line," I warn him.  

 

He blinks back confused.  T dog takes it back, saying, "I know how it works, I got it."

 

Merle frowns but let's him take it.  Although he hovers over his shoulder while t dog holds out the medicine.  Another box is snatched up by Andrea who passes it to Ms. Jackie.  She hurries to give some to Evelyn.

 

Anyone who has ever given medicine to a child knows it never goes well.  They fight and thrash about.  There's screaming and spitting and more medicine gets on you than in the kid.  

 

T dog actually grips Kendall jaw to hold her still.  An action that sees Merle grabbing him by the neck.  There's a lot of shouting and more panic than necessary.  Mostly because the Dixons are panicking and that's making the others loose it.

 

I let out a whistle, not a good one but shrill enough to be effective.  Then I bark out orders, "He has to hold her head so let him go.  You, giver her the medicine but be gentle.  Ms. Jackie, you got Evelyn?"

 

That stops them all.  Merle reluctantly lets go and Andrea backs off when Amy pulls on her arm.  T dog swallows, but nods, understanding why Merle grabbed him.  Ms. Jackie says yes.

 

I glance over to see that between her and Carol, they got the medicine in Evelyn but she's still crying.  So I call out, "We need the teething cream.  Look for a red or blue box, small and long."

 

T dog gets the medicine in Kendall and even some in Imogene.  Although I don't think Imogene needed it.  She's not teething, she's just upset.  But bad news, no teething gel.  The whole bag is scattered out and not a single tube!

 

Daryl shakes his head, "I already checked them bags inside, them baby bags.  No medicine anywhere."

 

Damn!


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

 

Okay.  No reason to panic.  We have teething babies but no gel.  We can get some.  But first we gotta get organized.  The yards a mess and the wall isn't finished.  Priorities!  We gotta have priorities.

 

"Okay, people," I call them to attention.  "Here's what were gonna do.  Carol, Sophia, and Jackie are gonna clean this up.  Get the kids to help.  They can throw the stuff in baskets or whatever.  Load all the stuff into the den off the living room since it's empty.  We'll divide and sort it later.  Try to get an inventory if ya can.  There's paper and pens somewhere in all this."

 

They nod but there's a lot of frowning.  So I address the others, "Daryl, you're in charge.  Take the rest of the group, minus Dale who'll take watch, and y'all work on the wall.  We need that gap closed.  Also, check the far gate, try to block it off if ya can."

 

He's nodding along while Dale heads back inside to take watch.  I look over at Merle with a teasing grin, "Think you can take us on a run?"

 

He frowns, "Younguns too?"

 

I nod.  He swallows, looks away then back, and nods.  We can't take the truck, they'll need it to move supplies.  So Merle passes keys to Daryl.  Everyone else gets moving, calmer now that they have orders.

 

I would've taken Daryl but if the babies are crying he'll panic.  It's not his fault, he just can't stand not being able to help them.  And he'll do better here keeping the others in line.  Plus, it'll be good for them to work with him.

 

Merle is Merle.  He'll panic a bit but he's good at moving past that.   He doesn't freeze when babies are screaming.  He don't like it, but the noise won't stop him.  And he needs away from the group after that scare otherwise he's gonna be snapping at them all day.  And that's not good for anyone.

 

I slip into the RV and grab up the carrier.  I call Carol to bring Evelyn and she helps me get her in it.  Then I scoop up the two babies and head back outside.  I stop long enough to tell the other kids to mind Carol and Jackie.  They're all quick to agree, still startled from the screaming that's only now trailing away.

 

We take a dark blue car.  I crawl in the passenger seat, laying the back all the way down so it doesn't push against Evelyn.  Merle squeezes in the front seat complaining the whole time about too small cars.

 

We get past the gate, Glenn had followed us down to open and close it for us.  The babies are still crying but it's more pitiful sniffling than the shrieking screams we woke to.  Merle keeps casting nervous glances our way but he stays quiet.  Which is kinda worrying.

 

So I ask, "How ya doin, Merle?"

 

He huffs, "They loud little bits, ain't they?"

 

I nod.  Yeah they're loud.  And it was startling to wake like that.  My first though was that somehow the cursed got in.  But our bed is between the kids and the door so we should've woken first if that was the case.  

 

And as scary as it was for me I can't imagine what they thought.  Because they are always so careful not to be rough or loud with the kids.  They are so careful not to make them cry.  And when they do cry, the brothers are quick to sooth them or hand them to me.  And I've been able to calm them easy.  

 

Usually just being held is enough.  But that is for fear.  When afraid, they need to be held and told that they are safe.  Pain is a whole other ball game.  With pain they need medicine.  They need the pain to stop.  Because it's not easy hurting like this.

 

And we can't let them keep screaming.  The noise will attract attention that we're just not ready for.  The wall isn't complete and it's not a tall wall.  Although, when I glanced over as we were leaving, I noticed they are building the new wall seven feet tall.  

 

Once that's done it should be easy to add an extra two feet to the rest.  We'll need more supplies.  There isn't enough bricks or cement bags here to build up the whole wall to seven feet.   But there is enough to close the gap and that'll buy us time we need to get more supplies.

 

Merle flips on the radio but it's only static.  He tries flipping channels but nothing comes up.  With an annoyed huff he clicks it back off.  His hands tight on the wheel until his knuckles turn white.  He's stressed, too stressed.  He needs to calm down.  

 

I check the glove box, it's empty except for an owners Manuel and some old bills.  So I shift the babies to my lap and reach under the seat.  My hand hits something solid, the size of a large book, so I pull it out.  It's a CD binder.

 

It's not easy to juggle two squirming babies in your lap and flip through CDs but I manage.  There's a lot of rock music here, aerosmith, meatloaf, that kinda stuff.  I spare a thought to wonder just whose car this is but it doesn't matter.  

 

Merle reaches over, snatching up a meatloaf, bat out of hell, CD and putting it in.  He's already relaxing at the first strums of the guitar.  I put the binder on the floor and pick the babies back up so they don't work themselves into a fit.

 

Merle relaxes, singing along although he's considerate enough to not get loud.  And we make good time.  The intersection comes up ahead when the CD switches to the third song.  I point out the small drug store beside and a little behind the grocery.

 

There's a few cursed here.  A half eaten one on the ground trying to crawl with one arm.  Three stumbling off the sidewalk towards the car.  And two more further down the street.

 

Merle slips out with a barked, "Stay."

 

Not that he needs to warn me.  With the babies in my arms I would just be a liability.  So I stay seated while he takes a large hunting knife and stabs the stumbling ones first.  Once they're down he goes to the crawling one.  

 

He hesitates at the other two.  They're far enough away that they are not yet a threat but if they come this way they will be.  But he doesnt want to go that far from us and he can take out two easily.  So he taps the window to tell me I can come out.

 

The drug store is a small one.  With the name Wilson's on a big wooden sign.  The inside is small, about as big as the living room at our new place.  And there are only four shelving racks that barely come above my chest.

 

There's toys here, small wooden ones.  All bare the logo of a person's name.  There's one rack with vitamins and aspirin, cold medicine and bandages across from it.  The next has pads and diapers on one side whole the opposite has toothbrushes, toopaste, mouthwash, shampoos, conditioners, and bodywashes.  

 

I go over it again and find the teething get with the toothbrushes.  Only three packs on a wire stick with a pack of pacifiers above it and a rattling toy above that.   
So I settle down, finding three baby blankets on the bottom shelf and spreading them out.  Then I put the babies down on them and twist to pull Evelyn free.

 

Merle shifts from foot to foot, "Want me to grab ya somethin?"

 

"Yeah, grab me a soda and see what food they got, will ya?"  I ask.

 

He walks off without comment so I open the teething gel and smear it in their mouths.  Evelyn does well.  I guess she remembers teething gel and the numbness it causes.  But Kendall lets loose a shrill shriek.

 

I snatch her up, holding her close and rocking.  She calms down after a minute, drool pouring down her chin.  I can see she's confused.  She doesn't understand what's happening.  But holding her helps.

 

So I settle myself better, scoop Imogene up too, and start to sing softly to them.

 

Wandering child of the earth   
Do you know just how much you're worth?   
You have walked this path since your birth   
You were destined for more 

There are those who'll tell you you're wrong   
They will try to to silence your song   
But right here is where you belong   
So don't search anymore 

You are the dawn of a new day that's waking   
A masterpiece still in the making   
The blue in an ocean of grey   
You are right where you need to be   
Poised to inspire and to succeed   
You'll look back and you'll realize one day 

In your eyes there is doubt   
As you try to figure it out   
But that's not what life is about   
So have faith there's a way 

Though the world may try to define you   
It can't take the light that's inside you   
So don't you dare try to hide   
Let your fears fade away 

 

You are the dawn of a new day that's waking   
A masterpiece still in the making   
The blue in an ocean of grey   
You are right where you need to be   
Poised to inspire and to succeed   
You'll look back and you'll realize one day 

You are the dawn of a new day that's waking   
A masterpiece still in the making   
The blue in an ocean of grey   
You are right where you need to be   
Poised to inspire and to succeed   
Soon you'll finally find your own way  

 

"Damn, that's a fine voice."  

 

I freeze.  I don't know that voice!


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

 

I turn slowly, terrified of what I'll find.  There's four men at the end of the aisle and a fifth on the next aisle, leaning over to watch.  They're all dirty with leather jackets and large weopens.  Two shotguns rest on two guys shoulders.  One guy has a long silver knife.  And one leaning casually against the rack has a large silver revolver in his hands.

 

The one in front holding the revolver, the one to speak, has long white blonde hair.  He's older with harsh pale eyes and a cold calculating face.  Something like a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

 

"Who the hell are yall?" I snap back defensively.

 

They're dangerous and I'm at a severe disadvantage.  Where the hell is Merle?  I lay the babies down on the shelf, shoving them further under.  As if That will keep them safe.

 

The one with the long knife laughs.  The others equally amused.  Again its the white haired man that answers, "We was just passin through when we heard a sirens call to come a lookin.  You do have a fine voice there, Darlin."

 

I hate that word.  It sounds sour, poisonous when he says it.  And I don't like the looks they're throwing my way.  Hungry and watchful like a pack of starving dogs.  They're dangerous.  Where in the hell is Merle?!

 

Evelyn whimpers beside me.  I shove her to climb onto the rack as well and press my back to her.  As if that would be enough to keep her safe.  As if I can keep any of them safe.  Where the hell is Merle?

 

They watch amused but make no move to stop me.  They know I can't fight them and that me shoving the babies under there won't protect them.  They know it and I know it and they know I know.  But I gotta stall them.  Where the hell is Merle?

 

The one on the other aisle, a fat ugly thing with wet hands tries to look past me.  His lips open in a twisted grin but his focus is on the kids.  I move enough to block them from view.

 

One of the guys with a rifle snorts, amused.  His stringy black hair brushes his shoulders and there's blood still wet on his shirt.  He glances impatiently at the grey haired man.  Clearly waiting for the leader to give them the go ahead.

 

The grey haired one stalks forward, a predatory glide.  His eyes watching me, daring me to react.  His voice mocking, "You alone in here, Darlin?  You got someone with you besides them babies?"

 

So that's what they're waiting for.  They want to see who else is here.   If I call for Merle he'll be dead.  But they know I didn't come alone with three babies.  Where the hell is Merle?

 

He closer now, poised to strike like a viper.  I gotta stall them.  I gotta keep them away from the babies.  I blurt out the first lie I think of, "My sister's with me.  She's gotta gun and she'll shoot your ass."

 

That get laughter.  And some of their tension fades away.  The grey haired man is grinning now, teeth bared like a shark.  He turns to the three at the end and nods his head.  They lope away like dogs chasing a rabbits scent.

 

I jump when he grabs me.  I knew he would.  Hell, I've been expecting it.  I knew he would grab me but I still jump and let out a startled scream.

 

I was never afraid of Merle or Daryl.  I may have been suspicious at first but that was because they were strangers.  These things... They ain't even human.  They scare the hell out of me.

 

I kick out at his leg.  Stupid and useless but I panic.  He drops down in front of me.  His hands grab my legs and he yanks hard.

 

It's enough to drag me forward and expose the kids to view.  Evelyn screams in fright.  So I start slapping.  He snarls, batting my hands away and slapping me hard with the back of his hand.

 

It stuns me a moment.  A moment that he uses to pull me further away from the kids.  But the fifth guy is circling the rack, eyes eagar on the babies.  I kick the white haired man in the face.

 

He snarls angrily.  He stands.  His booted foot coming down hard.  First stomp lands on my thigh.  The next lands on my stomach.  The fat guy is still edging closer.

 

I gasp for breath.  He kicks me twice more in the stomach.  Then he stomps hard on my back, knocking me onto my stomach.

 

Evelyn is screaming and I can barely breathe.  The babies are crying loudly now and the fat guy is getting closer.

 

Heavy weight settles on the back of my thighs.  I try to buck him off but I can't get the leverage.  My shoes scrape helplessly against the tile.

 

A gunshot goes off.  Something loud and echoing but its a single shot.  I have a moment of panic.  Did they find Merle?  Is he dead?  Did they shoot him?

 

The fat guy is closer now, too close.  Evelyn is screaming at the top of her lungs.  The babies are shrieking and wiggling.  But they have nowhere to go.  They're trapped.  We're trapped!  

 

I grab at the racks, trying to pull myself forward.  A hand on the back of my head slams me down.  It's not enough to knock me out but it still hurts.  The sound of ripping cloth comes before greedy hands trail up my exposed back.  The fat man is closer.

 

I glance under the rack.  I don't even know why I look under there.  But I look.  And there's a metal rod, like the others that hold some of the medicine.  It's long and thin but it could work. I reach for it.

 

The guy on me is pulling down my shorts.  I twist in his arms, uncaring if I'm naked so long as I can stop the other from hurting my kids!  I lunge, using my feet to throw myself forward.

 

They weren't expecting that.  The fat guy freezes.  The metal rod goes in his eye.  He jerks back with a loud shriek.

 

I didn't have the strength to push it all the way in.  I stabbed his eye.  If he lives he'll be blind on that side.  But it wasn't a killing blow.

 

This time it stunned me when my head is slammed down.  My ears are ringing and the kids are screaming.  My head is pounding from the hit.

 

Something hurt.  Something shoves me hard and it hurts.  I try to say stop.  I try to push him away.  But my head is spinning and my arms are clumsy.

 

A gunshot rings out.  Something hot sprays out over my back.  A dead weight falls on me.  Another gunshot rings out.

 

The kids are still screaming.  I can barely breathe.  Then the weight is rolled off of me, almost pulling me with it.  And I can breathe easier even if my head is pounding.

 

"Damn!"  Is snarled behind me.  

 

I know that voice.   I slur his name, "Merle?"

 

"I'm here," he says.  "I got ya."

 

I try to wave him to the kids but he's tugging something up my legs.  I realize it's my shorts.  I try to ask him where was he.  Or maybe I try to ask what took so long.  Maybe I'm asking if he's hurt or if he knows about the others.  I don't know what I'm saying.

 

"Shit!" He barks out angrily.  Turning me over, his hands grip my jaw, turning my head this way and that.  He curses again.  Fear in his eyes.  Then he's looking on the rack at the babies still screaming like crazy.

 

He catches my jaw, his voice stern, "I got the others but a herd is comin this way.  We gotta move.  Can you walk?"

 

I don't know.  I don't know if I can walk.  My head is dizzy and my arms won't move how I want.  He curses again, an angry growled, "Dammit!"

 

He's not cursing at me.  He's not mad at me.  I know that much.  But I need him to carry the babies.  I try to tell him.  I try to tell him to take them somewhere safe.  The babies are whats important.  We have to protect them.  We have to keep them safe.

 

He looks back pained.  A sound at the front draws his attention and he curses louder.  He's pissed and panicked.  He needs to calm down.  He needs my help.

 

I grab at his arm.  It's a weak hold, my hand barely slapped on.  But he stills, angry frightened eyes meet mine.  Waiting for me to say something.

 

It takes two tries before I can force the words out, "Take the babies out the back way.  Get us a car... truck... whatever.  Then come back for me.  If you hafta, lock them in the truck so the dead don't eat them."

 

He nods, resigned and angry but determined to get us to safety.  I let go and relax back.  That took the only strength I had.  Blackness eats away at my vision.


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update to add that the guys that attacked them were the claimers. I hated those guys and I wanted to get rid of them early on so they can't hurt more people.

Chapter 28

 

We jerk to a stop.  That's what wakes me.  I feel nauseous and dizzy and weak.  But we stopped moving and that's what woke me.

 

I'm on my back, laying on a bench seat of a truck.  My head is a bit further than the middle and my legs are bent against the door. The seat is grey, more plastic than cloth.  And I'm alone.  I shouldn't be alone.

 

I hear the kids crying.  It takes longer than I'd like to find them curled up in the floorboard.  Their cries are scratchy, their faces red and pale.  They've been screaming for a while.

 

The cab rocks with a motion.  I look up to see Merle climbing back in to drive.  He looks down with concerned blue eyes, "Ya with me, Darlin?"

 

I try to nod, to tell him I'm here.  But nausea rolls up and I close my eyes hoping I don't get sick.  My head is pounding.  The room is spinning and tilting badly.  And I want so much to throw up.

 

We stop again.  This time there are voices.  We didn't drive far.  Are we safe?  Are we home?

 

My legs fall when the door opens.  Hands rush up my legs as someone climbs in.  I can't stop the flinch or the scream even if its a small one.  I can't stop the way I tense up.  I look up at Daryl.  

 

His blue eyes are wide, frightened.  Then he glares up, pissed, at Merle.  Other voices are there.  Questions being shouted but neither brother answering.

 

Daryl turns back, shouting for them to back off.  The he orders Carol and Amy to come get the babies.  He crawls higher, pushing me up.  I cry out in pain before I can stop it.

 

He freezes, face going pale.  Merle lets out a sob, "I was too late.  I killed em, I swear I did.  But she was hurt bad.  And her head looks the worse but there's blood there too."

 

If looks could kill then Merle would be dead.  Daryl stays frozen, his voice full of cold rage, "Where was you?"

 

"Was lookin for food," he confesses.  "The grocers store was right there and I thought I could find somethin good to bring back."

 

That did nothing to appease Daryl.  I hear Carol ask if I'm alright and Amy ask if I got bit.  But both brothers ignore them.  Carol passes Evelyn to Amy, tells her to get inside.  Then she passes Kendall to Jackie and takes Imogene.

 

There are still voices asking questions.  Andrea is the loudest to demand to know what happened.  But Daryl climbs back down, pulling me to the edge of the seat.  When Merle tries to help him he actually snarls back, teeth bared and everything.

 

It's hard to focus on what going on.  The light is too bright, painful really.  And I hurt all over.  But the dizziness, the nausea, that's the worse.  Daryl pulls me until I slide down against him.  It hurts and I cry out at being jostled.

 

He freezes again but shakes it off to pull my head to his shoulder.  Then he wrap a one arm behind my back and the other under my butt and he carries me off.  He doesn't stop walking.  He even snaps at the others to back off.  And going up the stairs makes me feel sick.  I grab at his shoulders to hold on but my stomach clenches and rolls, again and again.

 

He carries me through the bedroom and into the bathroom.  He hesitates there but then he lowers us to the floor.  The tile is cold, much too cold, on my back.  But I feel better now that I'm not moving.  But for some reason I don't like his weight on me. Something about it makes me tense.

 

Daryl is crying.  It surprises me because I've never seen him cry.  I wasn't expecting it.  But there are big fat tears rolling down his cheeks even if he still looks murderous.

 

"I'm gonna get some water and clean ya up," he chokes out, wiping bloody hands on his cheeks.  

 

The red smears but he ignores it.  He stumbles to his feet, his face twisted in pain, as he promises again to be back quick.  I want to tell him that there's blood on him but the words don't come.

 

I like this bathroom.  It's too white, it needs more color.  But it's big.  It's almost as big as the bedroom.  And it has a big walk in shower made of tan and brown tile.  It doesn't have a door.  Instead it's made at an angle so you walk around a corner to get to the showerhead.  And the part of the wall where the water doesn't reach only goes halfway up.  The top of it built like a shelf.

 

Then theres the tub.  It's a big white claw footed thing with a wide deep inside.  Its the kind of tub that you could sit in and be burried up to your neck in warm water.  I miss warm water.  I miss showers and baths.

 

Footsteps come through the room.  Daryl reenters, carrying four big water jugs.  Merle walks in behind him with four more.  Both shoot worried, pained looks my way.  And its clear that both were crying.  Merle's eyes are red and wet trails still stain his cheeks.

 

They pour the water in the tub, emptying one jug after another.  Then more footsteps approach.  Dale, Glen, and T dog each carry in a large boiler pot.  The kind that you cook a lobster, or a really big batch of spaghetti in.  Those are still steaming and are poured into the tub.

 

Dale kneels beside me but Daryl snaps at him to get out.  The others throw cautious looks around but don't argue.  They just troop back out looking far too worried.

 

Daryl kneels down to pull my shirt off my arms.  The back is ripped open so it slides away easily.  It's also soaked with blood.  I frown at that.  Where did all that blood come from?

 

Merle asks if he should help but Daryl just snarls angrily at him.  He doesn't question, he just leaves.  Although he does add, "Most o the blood ain't hers.  I shot the guy on her and he bled all over her.  But the head wound...  looks like he slammed her head down mighty hard.  I think she's gotta concussion."

 

Daryl doesn't answer but he is calmer.  Although he freezes when he pulls my shorts down.  It may be because I flinched, trying to jerk away.  But it also might be because of the bruise darkening on my stomach.  

 

He clears his throat twice before he can ask, "I need ya ta say it, Darlin.  I need ta hear ya say it."

 

It takes long enough that I worry how hard I hit my head.  But I understand so I offer a slightly slurred, "I trust ya."

 

He's crying again.  Tears making trails on bloodied cheeks.  But he nods, accepting my words.  And he pulls off my shorts that are stiff with dried blood.

 

I've been wanting a bath.  I told him so before, I think.  But this is an awesome bathtub.  And the water is almost warm.  It's not quite warm enough to be soothing but it's also not cold.  

 

Daryl gets me propped up then strips his own clothes and climbs in with me.  I don't question where the soap and wash cloth come from because I really don't care.  And its nice when he washes me, taking care around all the new bruises.

 

He discovers the one on my inner thigh as well as the one on my back.  Both clearly in the shape of footprints and looking like they will darken badly.  There's several on my stomach where I was kicked.  But that is gonna be a mass of a bruise without much discernable shape.

 

Then he cleans between my legs and again I flinch away.  He freezes, snarling curses and slapping the sides of the tub.  He's furious now, calm murderous fury settles him.  And that fades to a cold calm.  At least he stops crying.

 

I'm not afraid.  I can't seem to stop flinching but it's not because I'm afraid.  I try to tell him that and some of it must translate because he gives a gruff, "I know."

 

He's gentle when he washes my hair.  His hands running over the strands again and again to get them clean.  And by the time we're done the water is a murky red.  I didn't even know I had that much blood on me.  No wonder they were all freaking out.  I probably looked like I had been murdered.

 

He pulls me from the water, laying me on a big blue towel.  Then he takes another to dry me off.  I'm more alert now but also tired.  And I still flinch when he touches between my legs.  He doesn't freeze this time.  He just moves on, drying the rest of me.

 

Then he scoops me up and carries me to the bed.  It's still a mess from this morning and I have no idea what time it is.  But I don't argue when he lays me down.  I relax back into the bed and breath out a relieved sigh when he pulls the blanket over me.

 

I feel better now.  I'm home and safe and surrounded by their familiar scents.  Daryl mumbles something about how he's gonna wake me every hour because I have a concussion and that can get dangerous.  I don't even realize it when he slips out of the room.

 

I drift a bit.  Unable to really sleep because I can hear shouting from downstairs.  I'm sore and bruised and dizzy and nauseous and tired but I can't seem to fall asleep.  I pull the blanket tighter, bury my nose against it and breathe in their scents.  It helps some.  But I really wish they were here.

 

The bed dips.  I blink up startled into wide blue eyes.  Micah crawls forward, cautious.  I relax, patting the bed beside me.  He slips under the covers without question.  A brown head scrambles up next.  Sarah, followed by Emmett, crawl up onto the bed.  

 

Then I see Sophia holding Evelyn, her eyes wide where she stares back at me.  I motion for her to pass me the baby and after a moment's hesitation she does.  Then she helps push the kids the rest of the way up.

 

Abigale crawls over my legs and up to the other side so I lay on my back and slip Evelyn to lay next to her sister.  Then Sarah crawls over my stomach, wanting to lay down next to the other girls.  It hurts but I bite my lip so I won't cry out.  Then Emmett tries to crawl on top of me and I choke out a sob.

 

Sophia snatches him back quickly, warning him, all of them, that I'm hurt so they have to be careful.  The she settles him back on the bed and he cautiously crawls up to wiggle between Micah and me.  It earns an annoyed huff from Micah but he scoots back to allow it.

 

There's still yelling from downstairs.  Shouts full of anger and accusation and something about drugs and jail.  I can't hear it clearly but I know enough of the voice to recognize Daryl.  

 

Sophia crawls up on the bed, behind Micah, and admits that her momma and Jackie still have the littlest ones.  That's fine.  I trust them to take care of the babies.  And I'm tired enough that I fall asleep.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

 

It's evening when I wake.  The kids are settled on the pallet beside the bed, quiet and sleeping.  A small child's lantern is glowing in the farthest corner with a soft blue glow.  Then the bed dips again and I realize that is what woke me.

 

I turn to watch Daryl crawl up on the bed.  It's dark enough that I can barely see him but I know it's him.  He moves under the covers to settle next to me.  He smells of sweat, blood, and dirt.  I still curl up against him, reaching for him.  He pulls me until I rest my head on his chest.

 

I'm not tired now.  I still have a headache and I don't think I can walk a straight line but I feel more clear.  I whisper that to him.  He hums but doesn't comment.  And I vaguely remember him waking me repeatedly only to let me fall back asleep.

 

I remember what happened.  I never really forgot.  But I try not to think about it.  A shudder crawls up my spine.  Daryl freezes and I know he's about to pull away so I tighten my hold on him.  I need him to stay.  I need him close.  I'm safe so long as he's here.

 

He presses a kiss to my forehead, careful of the knot that's formed.  And according to Sophia it has bruising rippled out around it in a near perfect circle while it is parts pale and red.  I haven't seen it yet but I imagine it's a doozy.  Especially since it's got me this muddled.

 

Daryl starts to hum, soft and slow.  I don't recognize the tune but it sounds familiar.  A song perhaps.  But not a lullibye or a worship song.  Something else maybe.

 

I shift closer, aware that I'm naked but not caring.  I remember the bath.  I remember how gentle he was when he washed me.  So I turn and press a kiss to his chest.

 

"Ya really wanna do that?" He asks confused.  

 

And I realize he thinks I'm aiming for sex so I shake my head.  Another shudder crawls up my spine and my thighs press tightly together.  "I was just sayin thank ya for takin such good care of me.  Wasn't startin nothin."

 

He hums but settles back.  He wasn't mad, he was just confused on what I was doing.  But he accepts it easily enough.  He's tired.  I can feel that.  And soon enough he'll be asleep.  

 

I shouldn't bother him but curiosity nags at me so I ask, "What all happened?"

 

He huffs but answers, "Merle came back with you covered in blood saying you was hurt.  I got ya cleaned up and went down stairs to ask em."

 

He shifts now, angry enough to wake up more.  He growls out, "He was high.  The dumb sonofabitch was higher than tha sky."

 

High?  He was high?  But...  Merle was supposed to protect us.  He was supposed to keep watch and stay close.  He was supposed to keep us safe.  He was high?

 

Daryl lets out a breath, sounding like an angry bull, "Y'all went to a pharmacy.  He got in some pills an wondered off.  Got high.  Then some asshole shot at em and he killed em.  Then he went an found y'all."

 

I'm pull away shaking.  I thought that he had seen them but couldn't warn me because I was too far away.  I thought he had stayed back because he was outnumbered.  I thought he waited until they seperated to take them out.

 

I'm crying and I can't stop.  Daryl tries to hold me but I pull away.  Why?  Why would he do that?  Why would he leave us in that kind of danger?  Why?

 

Daryl mutters a curse.  He don't grab me but he tries talking softly.  He's promising that I'm safe and the kids are safe.  He's promising that it won't happen again.

 

But Daryl wasn't there.  He wasn't there and Merle was high.  My stomach rolls and I struggle to escape the covers.  Daryl is startled but he moves out of the way.  I only make it to the edge of the bed before it comes up.

 

I don't have much on my stomach.  I skipped all three meals today, only managing a few crackers that Sophia offered.  So most of what comes up is bile. 

 

Daryl is rubbing my back, trying to sooth me.  It doesn't really work.  I don't think he understands.  He wasn't there.  He wasn't there and Merle was getting high.

 

"There was five of them," I try to explain.  "Two had shotguns, one had a knife, and the leader had a big silver gun.  But the fifth one... He was the worst.  He was lookin at Evelyn like them others was lookin at me."

 

There's a choked sound from the door.  I look up and see Merle standing there, just inside the room.  It's dark but I know it's him.  I'm mad and hurt and he should've been there!

 

"They was all starin at me but he was starin at her,"  I tell them.  "A baby!  He was licking his lips and comin around that shelf for a baby!"

 

Merle steps closer, hesitant shuffling steps.  "He was gonna rape her," I snarl out.  "He was gonna hurt a baby!"

 

Merle reaches the bed, hold a his hand out towards me as if to touch.  But his drawl of, "Darlin", makes me jerk back.  I'm shaking and crying and Daryl snarls at him to leave.

 

"Why?" I choke out.  "Why did you..."

 

I can't say the words.  It hurts to know we're so expendable to him.  But I need to know why he risked us like that.  I need to hear him say it.

 

"I ain't right in tha head," he whispers back but he doesn't come closer.  "Been messed up since I came home.  Docs tried to give me meds but after discharge the government won't pay the whole thing and I can't afford it.  Ain't many options when you can't get the meds ya need.  I started takin whatever I could find.  But, Darlin..."

 

I flinch again, "Don't call me that.  They called me that.  I can't hear it right now without hearin them."

 

He swallows loudly but nods his head, accepting my request.  He scrubs at his face but offers up apologetically, "I swear I thought we was safe.  I'd never left ya if I didn't think we was safe.  I swear."

 

And I do believe him.  Because I thought we were safe too.  But it still feels like betrayal that he left us like that.  It still hurts.

 

"Won't never happen again," he promises desperately.  "Next run I go on, Daryls comin too.  That a way, it won't never happen again."

 

"I hurt," I whisper out.  

 

I didn't mean to.  I wasn't trying to say it aloud.  But the pain of my head throbbed, worse now than before.  And there's pain low in my belly.  It was more of an observation, not a reprimand.  And my voice was smaller than I've ever spoken.

 

Merle still flinches back as if I'd slapped him.  And Daryls hand on my back stills.  I don't know if I should apologize.  Maybe I should.  Because he wasn't trying to get us hurt.  

 

But he let this happen.  He let them attack us.  He let that man rape me...

 

It hits me like a hammer.  I was raped.  I was raped!  That's what that man did to me.  That's why I hurt!

 

I'm choking on sobs and crying so hard my whole body shakes.  I knew... of course I knew.  But for some reason it's real now.  It's real and it hurts and I don't want it.  I don't want it!


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

 

I don't sleep, I can't.  Daryl brings me some clothes, a t shirt and sleep pants, so that helps some.  But I can't sleep.  He sleeps, his arm thrown over my waist.  But I can't sleep.

 

Merle didn't stay with us.  He took the night watch.  It's supposed to be split.  The first half kept by one person and the second half by another.  That way no one falls asleep on watch.  And he was supposed to come get Daryl but he never showed.

 

I give up before morning.  I slept too much yesterday so I can't sleep now.  And I'm worried about Merle.  He is probably still on watch.  It's his way of punishing himself.  Daryl said he probably would.  That he'll push himself until he falls.  But that he knows his limits so he won't overstep them.

 

Still, I worry.  So I slip from the bed, careful not to wake Daryl.  Imogene is awake in the crib, blinking up confused as if she doesn't know why she's awake.  I change her and offer a pacifier.  She may want a bottle but she's not fussing yet so I wait.  

 

And thankfully, Kendall is sleeping peacefully.  Even if she is drooling like crazy.  She'll need a bottle soon.  Because all that drooling will dehydrate her.  I sit Imogen next to her to free up my arms.  

 

Then I go ahead and mix two bottles.  Better safe than sorry.  And I put a measure of Tylenol in one for Kendall.  I don't know if it's time but surely it won't hurt.  

 

I change Kendall.  It doesn't wake her although she does frown and grumble annoyed.  Then I move a pillow and set a bottle against her mouth.  She takes it without hesitation.

 

But Imogene is still awake so I lift her up and hold out the bottle.  She takes it and drinks but she's not rushed.  She may be reaching the point where she doesn't need midnight bottles.  

 

I look forward to that, when they sleep through the night.  But teething is gonna be a nightmare.  As is potty training, I think.  And I still need to work with Evelyn on that.  I've been letting them all wear diapers and training pants.  We're gonna have to stop that soon.

 

I walk out of the room, making my way by the soft light from the back corner.  It's enough to get me out the door.  And once in the hall, the windows offer enough light for me to find my way around.  The steps are dark but so long as I move carefully I won't trip.

 

Merle is there, sitting on a chair and staring off into the distance.  I walk up to stand beside him.  He doesn't comment but I know he's aware that I'm there.  If for no other reason than the sounds Imogene is making.  But he stays silent, waiting.

 

I realize his eyes are alert, watchful, so I follow his gaze.  And I almost scream.  Because there is a herd moving along the road past the gate.  There must be a hundred of them at least.  And with the mindlessness of a herd, they walk forward along the road.

 

What in the hell?  Where did they come from?  Where are they going?  Are we safe?

 

"S'alright, they ain't lookin this a ways," Merle whispers.

 

And he's right.  They aren't looking this way.  They're marching on like ants, all following the same path.  But to where?  What drives them?  Why do they amass in herds like this?  Why do they move?  Where are they going?

 

I turn quick to eye the wall.  Thankfully it's complete.  The new section, seven feet tall, is complete.  They must've finished it yesterday.  Although, we will need to finish building up the rest soon.  We can't risk them climbing the wall.  I don't even know if they can climb but we can't risk it.

 

Then I notice a white delivery truck parked in the road in front of the house.  I point it out, silently asking where it came from.  Merle sighs, shoots me a pained look, but he answers, "When I got high and wondered off I didn't go far.  I just went out back.  Found the truck and was lookin through it.  It's all good.  Figured we could use it."

 

He shifts in discomfort, "I wasn't gone all that long.  I thought y'all was safe, I swear.  But I remembered you askin for food and soda and I thought to myself that I found food an now I gotta get ya some soda."

 

I had forgotten that I asked for that.  Really I just wanted something to drink and snack on while I calmed the babies.  I thought he'd find something on a nearby rack.  I didn't expect him to leave us.  But I guess if he was high then it probably made sense to him.

 

He clears his throat, careful not to be too loud, "I slipped into the grocers store.  It'll be a nice hit when we go.  And I found the drinks at the front.  Got ya a couple cause I wasn't sure which one ya'd want."

 

He looks back at me, pleading, "I swear I thought y'all was safe.  And I saw a bunch o them old dead bastards coming down the road we cleared.  I figured we'd have ta hall ass to a get away so I went back for ya."

 

He frowns, looking away guilty, "But when I opened the door there was three guys there, two with rifles.  I punched the first.  They wasn't expectin me.  But the other got off a shot.  Didn't hit me.  Just blew a fuckin hole in the door."

 

He holds up his left arm, a white bandage clear.  "I stabbed em both but the third guy cut me good with that knife o his," he huffs out.  "I was searching them, takin their shit when I realized them babies was screaming like crazy.  So I ran in."

 

He looks back, part proud and part ashamed, "I heard that fat ass screaming.  Saw the metal stick ya stabbed him with.  Ya did good there, Darlin."

 

I frown at that.  Because if he saw the guy that quick after I stabbed him then he shoulda shot the other one sooner, right.  It shouldn't have taken that long for him to stop the one hurting me.

 

He looks away, refusing to meet my eyes, "I saw that one tearin at ya clothes but them idiots left the door open and a group o them was comin in.  So I left ya there so I could block tha door.  I wasnt quick like I thought I'd be.  I stabbed a few o them.  Scared ta shoot em less it draws more.  And I closed tha door and shoved a rack against it."

 

He swallows, his gaze locked onto the herd moving past.  "But them babies was screamin to high heaven and the dead was poundin on tha windows.  I figured it wouldn't hold long, only slow em a bit.  So I went back to ya only to see him ruttin ya like a damn dog.   So I shot em."

 

I look away, not sure what to think.  I guess I understand that it went so bad so quickly.  It couldn't really be helped.  And he didn't get high and abandon us.  He was doing what I asked even if not how I meant.  And he didn't leave me to them on purpose.  He had to prioritize what to do.  And the herd currently passing us is the one that spooked him earlier.

 

I look away from the herd.  My gaze goes over our land.  This place is a nice one.  The ground is mostly level and there's plenty of room to spread out.  Plus, we can start planting and growing our own food.  There's several lots that we can work with.

 

Then my gaze falls to the houses.  We can spread out into them but we shouldn't spread ourselves too thin.  It will be nice to have a home, one that's ours.  But we can't let it lull us into foolishness.  We gotta prepare and plan.  We gotta be ready for anything.

 

I look over at the house Daryl picked. I don't know if Daryl mentioned it to Merle yet or not.   So I point it out, "That one will be ours.  Me and Daryl were talking, first night here, and we decided that that one will be ours.  So as soon as we're stable enough to spread out some, that's where well go."

 

He nods, shoulders slumped and eyes pained.  Then I realize why.  He thinks I don't mean him.  He thinks we're gonna cast him aside.  But he's family too.

 

Imogene has finished her bottle so I sit it down and shift her up to my shoulder.  Then I push Merle back and crawl into his lap.  He blinks startled but puts his arms around me to hold me steady.  I look him in the eyes and stress, "It... will... be... our... home."

 

He looks hopeful.  It's almost painful to see.  So I wrap an arm around his shoulders and explain, "Our home will always include you, Merle.  You are family.  So where ever we go, you go.  Our home will have you, me, Daryl, and all of our kids.  Understand?"

 

He swallows, trying twice before he gets out, "Ya don't hate me for what happened?"

 

I shake my head, "I'm upset that it happened but I don't blame you.  It was horrible, what happened, but it wasn't your fault."

 

Tears roll down his cheek.  He huffs, clears his throat.  Then he buries his face against my neck.  I turn away to keep watch so he can have this moment.  I don't let go or pull away.  He needs this.  He needs me.  So I hold him and give him the time he needs.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

 

We stay together, watching the sun rise.  The last of the dead trail away without being drawn to us.  I'm grateful for that.  And the sunrise is beautiful.  I don't know the last time I just relaxed and watched the sunrise.  It's peaceful.

 

Morning means breakfast and I miss that so I slip from his lap and tell him to wake Glenn for watch.  He smiles, looking better than he has for a while.   And he agrees, following me until he ducks his head into the men's bedroom to wake Glenn.  

 

I slip into the master bedroom and lay Imogene down next to an awake Kendall.  They turn to each other, blabbering away.  Daryl lifts his head to ask what's up so I tell him I'm gonna cook breakfast.  He grumbles an okay but doesn't get up.

 

I head to the kitchen to see what we have.  It's easy to find the canned foods which include canned potatoes.  Then I ask Merle if he knows how to make biscuits.  He laughs, admitting that he taught Daryl.  So I ask him to bake biscuits.  Then I grab and armfull of canned potatoes and tomatoes for breakfast.

 

We may have a huge kitchen in here but we don't have any electricity to make anything run.  I'll have to see if we can get a generator.  That would definitely come in handy.  Until then, we'll just keep cooking in the RV.  

 

Merle follows me up with a round basket full of flour, corn meal, and a jar of Crisco as well as some herb jars and whatever else.  He sets up on the table and gets to work mixing ingredients.  He's more animated now, no longer weighed down by guilt.

 

I drain the potatoes and cube them up.  Then I dump them into two skillets with a good splash of cooking oil.  And a glass lid will hopefully stop it from splashing.  Then I ask what all was in the truck.

 

Merle shrugs, unconcerned, "Honest, I forgot about it and the others ain't touched the truck.  Whatever is in there is still there."

 

I ask him to watch the skillets while I slip out to look.  He nods agreement.  His focus on the bowl he's mixing up so I leave him to it.

 

Once outside, I glance up at Glenn who is waving and yawning but watchful.  I wave back.  The truck isn't far.  And its a relatively small delivery truck.  So I open the two back doors to see stacks of canned foods in plastic wrap at the front.  Behind them are boxes, stacked and wrapped together.  And there's another two rows behind those.

 

It takes a while to shift stuff around.  I pull the double stacks of cans off and set them out on the road.  Each double stack is a different kind of food.  The boxes behind that are all potatoes and pastas so I pull them free too.

 

Carol, Amy, and Andrea wonders down so I ask them to help me move all this inside.  Andrea asks, "Where did this come from?"

 

"When we got to the drug store the area was clear," I explain.  "So Merle went looking around and found this.  He didn't know we was attacked until he came back through."

 

"But he left you alone with three babies," Andrea snaps back.  Clearly she's decided that Merle is at fault.

 

I huff, rolling my eyes at her stubbornness.  My voice scathing, "You just love to hate him, don't'cha.  What the hell did he ever do to you for you to always assume the worst of him."

 

She puts down the cans, crosses her arms, and glares back.  She snaps back, "He's a racist redneck asshole!"  

 

"And your a racist stuck up bitch," I snap back.

 

Carol tries to keep the peace but Andrea lashes back, "He's a pervert!  He leers at every female he sees, including you.  He calls Glenn, Chinaman.  He won't call people by their names.  He calls T dog and Jackie worse!"

 

I hum, glancing back at the RV and hoping he can't hear this.  "Did ya know he was in the marines," I offer coldly.  She tries to interupt but I don't let her.  "His humvee was bombed.  Only he and one other got out and the other didn't have legs.  Everyone else was blown to pieces."

 

She's still looking ready to argue so I add, "He didn't come away unharmed.  He can't remember names.  He calls Daryl by name but he calls me Darlin.  If you ask him about Charlie he won't know who ya talkin about.  So he calls people words he associated with them."

 

She still doesn't look any happier.  I scoff, "Y'all called us all trailer trash rednecks the moment we showed up.  You and Lori were the worst at that.  And yeah he calls y'all names but y'all ain't innocent.  Y'all racist too."

 

She scoffs and huffs but Amy and Carol tug her back to helping move supplies.  She is just determined to hate him.  I don't know why she's so stubborn about it but she is.  So I ignore her and get back to work.  She'll have to get over it eventually.

 

The row after the boxes are all cans and boxes of soup.  Every kind imaginable.  I pull them out and stack the sets on the ground.  The guys are here now and help moving the food inside.

 

Behind that is various, what my momma would call, 'fake' foods.  Theres boxed milk, the cheap brand in skim, 2%, and whole.  And theres a whole lot of boxed, dried eggs, milk, and other foods.  Theres even spray cans of cheese, American and cheddar.  Everyone is gonna love that!

 

I pull them down, taking a box of powdered eggs and heading back to the RV.  At this point the others can finish the truck.  And I don't want to leave Merle alone for long.

 

He's sitting on the couch watching the oven.  I check the potatoes, he's already put them over in a big bowl.  And the biscuits are cooking away.  So I whip up the eggs in a bowl and start the skillets again.  Scrambled eggs, potatoes, and biscuits will make a wonderful breakfast.

 

"Why'd ya tell them about me," Merle asks quietly.

 

I turn with a frown but he looks back steadily.  He's serious about this.  He didn't want me talking to them about him.  I didn't think I told them anything they shouldn't know.  But something I said must've upset him.

 

I think back over it but I don't know what so I tell him, "I don't like how she talks about ya.  I don't like the things she insinuates.  So I was tryin to point out how she was wrong."

 

He frowns, "But why?"

 

I scrape out the eggs into a large bowl.  That way we can carry it up to the house soon.  But Merle need me now to help clear this up.  So I crawl into his lap and ask what's wrong.

 

He strokes my back with one hand and the other squeezes my knee, on the uninjured leg.  It takes him a moment to put it into words but he asks, "Why does it bother you if they hate me?"

 

I look in his eyes, he's really confused about it.  I wrap my arms around his neck, rubbing at his shoulder.  "Because it's wrong," I tell him.  "Because you're a good man and you didnt do nothin to earn their hate.  She ain't got no right to treat ya how she does."

 

He frowns, still not understanding.  So I add, "You risked yourself for us when ya didn't know us.  Ya decided that we was yours to protect and ya' have kept us safe.  Ya ain't a monster.  Ya ain't perfect but ya ain't a bad man neither."

 

He frowns, squeezing my knee.  I can see that he disagrees, he wants to deny being good or selfless.  So I squeeze his neck and tell him, "Those men, they scared me.  I was terrified the moment I saw them.  Didn't matter that I just met them, I was terrified of what they would do to me.  I knew they was evil the moment I saw them."

 

He squeezes my knee, his gaze worried.  So I add, "They scared me the moment I saw them cause they was evil men.  You ain't!  I wasn't scared of you or Daryl when we first met.  I was suspicious cause we was strangers but I wasn't scared ya'd rape me or nothin."

 

He shifts uncomfortably, guilty even.  I have to prompt him twice to get him to talk.  His words are whispered out like a confession, "We talked about sharin ya, me and Daryl.  We wouldn't a forced ya but we talked about sharin ya, both o us havin goes at ya.  We talked about it a lot."

 

I squeeze his shoulder, "But if I said no ya'd back off.  Ya wouldn't force me or hurt me.  I trust ya."

 

He blinks startled.  His eyes wide in surprise, "Ya trust me?"

 

I grin, hugging him close, "I trust ya, Merle Dixon.  Your a good man.  And I ain't even a bit afraid of ya.  We're family, all of us.  You, me, Daryl, Kendall, Imogene, Evelyn, Sarah, Emmett, Abigale, and Micah."

 

He laughs, relieved and amused.  Probably surprised I named each kid instead of just calling them our kids.  But they have names.  They are people, small vulnerable people sure, but they're people.  And they are as much a part of this family as me and the Dixons.

 

He pats my leg, encouraging me to get up. He gets the biscuits out of the oven, dumping then on a large platter.   And he helps gather the plates and bowls while I double check that everything is off.  He waits until we step down on solid grown, his lips pulled in a smirk, when he teases, "Ya know we could share ya."

 

I huff at him, more amused than offended.  And while he's teasing there is a bit of seriousness to the offer.  He says it again, "I'm just sayin, we Dixon know how ta treat a woman.  And we won't mind sharin ya if ya wanna try it.  Won't even be mad if ya don't like it.  But it's there if ya wanna."

 

I don't laugh because that would be mocking him.  And I care too much to mock him.  So instead I tease back, "I don't think I can handle the both of ya but thanks all tha same."

 

He grins, chest puffed out.  He gets that way sometimes.  Proud as a peacock and strutting around for everyone to see.  It shows he's back to his usual self and that's a good thing.

 

Daryl sits at the table with both little babies in his lap.  I put down the bowls and steal a kiss.  A very good, thorough kiss.  And pull back with a grin.

 

His eyes glance from me to Merle and back.  I nod to let him know we're okay.  I'm sure he can tell.  Pretty sure it's obvious to everyone.  But now he knows that we're okay so he won't worry about a rift growing between us.

 

I call the others to breakfast, sending Andrea to take a plate up to Glenn.  She glares back at me but she does go, reluctantly and stomping but she goes.  

 

The kids get their plates first.  There's excitement because they get biscuits with jam.  And the adults are excited for the scrambled eggs.  So the breakfast does well to improve moods.  And Carol promises pancakes for tomorrow which stirs up more excitement.

 

With everyone here I call them to attention, "Alright, people, we got a lot to get done.  We need bricks and concrete to build up the wall.  A herd moved past us last night, along the road outside, and we're lucky they didn't turn our way.  We may not be as lucky the next time."

 

That earns some worried glances.  But I grab up a map, one of mine that's covered in markings and has been left on the counter since we got here.  I open it to show them a hardware store that's back closer to the interstate.  

 

I remember it from when daddy drove out there, wanting to buy from a small shop for some reason that I never really understood.  But at least I know it's there.  And it should be a safe enough run.

 

"Daryl and Glenn will lead the run," I order.  "Andrea, T dog, Merle, and Dale you're with them.  Whatever they tell ya to do, ya don't argue.  Understood?"

 

Nods all around.  Then I point to Carol, "You are on watch, ms. Jackie and I will be minding the kids and getting an inventory of our supplies.  Sophia will be our helper with the kids.  Good?"

 

Sophia perks up with a grin.  Amy looks confused so I tell her, "Amy, you're on laundry."

 

She groans miserably so I add, "We've been letting things pile up and that's no good.  I got a couple foot powered washing machines you can use to get the clothes clean and we'll help ya put up the lines and such in the back yard."

 

She nods, not liking the work but understanding.  So I address Daryl and Glenn, "We need bricks, wood, and concrete but see if ya can find a generator and fuel.  It would be awesome if we can get one house with electricity.  Also, look for everything for a garden.  Seeds to shovels to whatever.  Just look around and grab everything ya can find."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

 

Merle suggests that I come too.  Everyone froze at that.  He looks away, ashamed.  Then he snaps, "She's the smartest!  She'll think o things we don't.  Better we have her with us."

 

Dale agrees, seconding Merles suggestion.  Daryl shoots me a concerned look.  I know hes worried because I froze at the suggestion.  I'm covered in bruises and I limp slightly when I walk.  I sure as he'll can't run.  I can't do this!

 

Merle holds up his hands, his gaze steady, "Ya won't be alone tha whole time.  Daryl will be at ya side ever step o the way.  And I'll be close too."

 

The last is added hesitantly.  As if he doesn't know if that will help or not.  But oddly enough it does.  So I agree to go so long as Dale stays behind to take my place.  He agrees easily.

 

We sort ourselves into two vehicles.  Me and the Dixons ride in their truck at the front.  T dog, Andrea, and Glenn ride in the delivery truck since the back is empty.  We're hoping that between the two we can load up plenty of supplies.

 

I settle into the middle with Merle driving.  It feels pretty normal for a while.  Although the jostling of the truck makes my head throb fiercely.  And I'm okay for the first part of the drive.  But when the pharmacy comes into view I freeze.

 

My heart is pounding.  My head is spinning.  I can barely breath and my ears have that pressure that says they need to pop.  I tense up, the pain in my belly aching from hip to hip and everything in between.  

 

Both brothers notice my reaction and two hands land on my legs.  I flinch back without thought.  I'm not afraid of them, I'm not.  But it's like there's ghost hands trailing up my back and yanking down my pants.  I kick out, a reflex really.  Both brothers pull back as if they were burnt.

 

"Don't touch me now," I snap through gritted teeth, my eyes squeezed shut.  "I can't think right now.  I trust ya, I do.  But my heart is racing and I feel like I gotta start swingin."

 

"Ya body's panickin even if ya brain says it's all good," Merle comments knowingly.

 

"Yeah," I let out a breath.  At least he understands.

 

He hums, "I did that a lot.  Either my body'd be doin shit when my brain was saying it wasn't needed or my head would be thinkin I ain't where I am.  Caused a lot of bar fights cause I'd forget I wasn't over there still."

 

"Tell me somethin good," I plead.

 

I need to think of something else, anything really.  I need something to help me focus away from the pain in my belly and the hands I can still feel gripping my hips.  I need one of Merle's stories.  Something full of his gruff laughter and lewd humor.  Because all of his humor is lewd.  I doubt the man knows a clean joke. 

 

"When we saw ya I knew ya was smart," he says smugly.

 

"What?"  I ask incredulously.

 

He grins, "Knew it the moment I saw ya, didn't I Daryl?  I said, that's a smart one, we gonna keep her close."

 

I ask for something good and he reminds me of the day I lost everyone I love?  No, that's not what he means.  Even if all I think of that day is the smell of rot and blood.  The sounds of screams of those I know and care for as they're eaten alive.  And my brother, blue eyes wide, as he stays behind to buy us time even if it means they'll eat him alive instead.

 

But that's not what he means.  His little half smile.  He wants me to remember that we survived.  He wants me to remember that several babies survived that day.  He wants me to think that I was smart for covering blankets in the dead things scent to keep us safe even though I still have nightmares about the feel of rotten flesh squishing between my fingers.

 

He doesn't mean harm.  He thinks I should be proud to survive.  He doesn't understand how much I hate that day.  He doesn't know that I have dreams of seeing my brother, my friends and family, walking in a herd.  He doesn't know I fear watching my children running to their rotting parents only for their parents to eat them alive.

 

"I said tell me somethin good," I say, something must've translated in my tone because he casts me a concerned look.  

 

He grins, just a hint of apology in his eyes as he teases, "All hell, Darlin, that is good.  We ain't had much in life.  We sure as shit never had nothin like ya before.  Ya and them kids the best thing that we ever had."

 

I blush, asking, "Really?"

 

He grins suddenly puffed up with pride, "Hell yeah, Darlin.  You the very best thing we ever had.  World may a gone ta shit and folks is ten types of crazy but we got ya and them kids and that's better than anything we had before."

 

Then he rubs at his jaw and adds as an afterthought,  "Hell, that RV is better than anything we had before.  This here is tha high life for us."

 

Daryl hums agreement, although he too shoots me a concerned look.  Its sad to think that I'm the best thing to happen to them.  Because I don't feel all that special.  I can't fight or hunt or build.  I can plan and I mind the kids but that's it.  And they don't really get much from being around me.

 

But that's how Andrea and them see it.  They think the brothers need something from me.  But they don't.  They're good men.  And even if I wasn't sleeping with Daryl, they would still protect us.

 

They accept us as family.  It doesn't matter to them that we don't share blood.  It wouldn't matter if I didn't want to sleep with either of them.  They claimed us as family and we claimed them too.  And that's what makes this good for them.  

 

They're not alone anymore.  It's not just the two of them against the world.  They have people to worry over them.  They have people who care if they're hurt or hungry or upset.  They have someone other than themselves that will mourn if they are lost.  And that is why he remembers that day happily.  

 

Because that's the day they found us.  So that was a good day for him, for them.  That was the day they became more than just a couple of redneck.  That was they day they became protectors, father's in a way, and something like husbands.  That was the day they gained a family.   So that was a good day to them.

 

I lean up and press a kiss, first on Daryls lips, then on Merles cheek.  He grins lewdly, "We still good with sharin ya, Darlin.  If ya want, we both good with it."

 

I blush and stutter out a 'no thanks' which gets a laugh from Merle.  He's joking, teasing to lighten the mood.  But there's also a seriousness to it.  Something almost hopeful in his eyes when he says it.  Something almost pleading with me to agree.

 

And I understand, I do. It's not a perverted thing. He just doesn't want to be outside looking in. He wants us to be a balance, a well knit family. He wants us to be equals. But he doesn't know how to manage that without some kind of claim. 

 

And he's worried that he'll be cast aside if me and Daryl go off on our own. He thinks it's inevitable that we'll drift apart. And he's terrified of drifting away from his brother, the most important person in his world. So by his reasoning, sharing me will keep us all together. 

 

And Daryl won't loose his brother. Not after his brother raised him, taught him. Merle was more of a father to Daryl than their old man. And Daryl knows Merle. He knows his moods and his weaknesses. He's seen the best and worst of his brother. And he's never left him alone. So Daryl won't think twice about sharing the same woman with Merle. Because to Daryl, Merle will always come first.

 

But it just seems weird.  How would it work anyways?  But besides that, I don't want him to use us as a crutch.  He clings to Daryl, always has.  Not that its a bad thing.  But he is too afraid to strike out on his own.  He wants to stay close to those he claims so he won't even look at another woman seriously unless I push him to do it. And I want him to be happy. He deserves to be happy.

 

I don't think I can handle the both of them.  But maybe I can encourage Merle to talk to the others.  Not Andrea or Amy but maybe Carol?  I'll see if that could work.  Maybe it will, maybe it won't.  But it won't hurt to ask. And at least it might get him to consider. Although I don't think he's anywhere near ready. Small steps, I think.

 

Not now though.  Because we're almost to the store and there are several cursed we're passing.  Both brothers tense up, eyeing the cursed with caution.  No doubt they're weighing whether or not there will be more further on.  So we spend the rest of the drive in silence.

 

The store is up ahead.  There's several cursed but no more than a dozen.  So Merle drives the truck up to the front of the store and turns it so the back is facing the door.  He motions the other truck to do the same.  And he and Daryl hurry to take out the cursed with the others jumping down to help.

 

It doesn't take long.  Even if the others are no where as organized as the brothers.   And Andrea nearly gets bit because she was beating a cursed instead of just killing it.  Merle shouts at her about it, calling her an idiot.  

 

She puffs up offended, refusing to listen to his criticism just because she doesn't like him.  We really need to make it a rule that those two can't go on runs together until she mellows out.  I don't know what her problem is but she better get over it soon.  And none of them are good with weapons.  We really need to get their training organized.

 

We head inside, Daryl and Glenn taking point while Merle and I hold the back.  There are a few inside, probably more wandering the aisles, but I doubt there are even a dozen in here.  At least this looks like it will be a good run.

 

The store itself is clean and organized.  There are clear signs for lumber, tools, feed, and garden center.  There are a few places where you can see they didn't restock but overall it looks untouched.  So I grab some flat carts, pushing them towards the guys.

 

I set Andrea to keep watch, telling her to climb the truck.  Then I tell T dog and Glen to go to the garden center and grab everything in sight.  The guys head off without comment.

 

There's a forklift at the back, barely visible.  So I ask Merle to get it.  Andrea is still hovering at the end of the aisle behind us so I tell her, "We need you on watch outside so we don't walk into a herd."

 

Andrea stands with her arms folded, a guarded look on her face.  She tries to wave me to follow her but I shake my head.  She says, "I just want to talk to you for a minute.  We won't go far."

 

I shake my head, "Whatever ya gotta say ya can say it in front of them.  Or better yet, wait until we get back home where it's safe."

 

She huffs and glares but when I don't back down she snaps, "You need to take a morning after pill."

 

"What?" I ask confused.  Merle comes walking back grumbling about the forklift not working and we'll have to move the concrete mix and bricks by hand.

 

She sighs, annoyed, "If you don't do something then you're likely to get pregnant.  Do you guys use condoms?  Did the guy that attacked you use condoms?  If you don't take a morning after pill or birth control pills then you could wind up pregnant.  And we can't exactly run off and get you an abortion."

 

I blink dumbly at her.  I heard the words but my brain froze.  Merle chases her off, ordering her back to work.  He looks tense, uncomfortable with the topic.  Daryl looks frozen back at me.  I don't think he thought about it either.

 

"Darlin," he edges closer cautiously.  "What ya need us ta do?"

 

I reach for him, I reach for them both.  And they wrap around me.  Merle in front of me, his hand on the back of my neck.  Daryl behind me, his hands tight on my waist.  Somehow, this helps.  Somehow, this drives off the panic.  I can breathe right again.

 

"Did y'all use protection," Merle asks gently.

 

I shake my head, "I didn't think about it.  Never done anything like this before and I just didn't think of it."

 

"Ya was a virgin?" Merle asks startled.

 

Daryl sighs, "She was, realized that after we got started.  But she was trustin me and I was high on it so I didn't think."

 

I feel it when Merle cuffs him on the head.  It's a hard smack but no where near the strength the guys are capable of.  Merle huffs annoyed, "We'll have ta get somethin for ya then, Darlin.  Your ours and we'll take care of ya either way.  But it might be a good idea to wait on anymore babies."

 

I huff a laugh against his chest.  Yeah, we can't afford for me to get pregnant.  But my parents preached abstinence, so did my school.  And while I know condoms exist I've never seen one in person.  And daddy would of killed me if I had asked about birth control.  That never would've been allowed.

 

But they're right.  I don't want to be pregnant.  Especially since we don't have a doctor in case something goes wrong.  No, I can't risk it.  So I'll ask them to get me something to be safe.  They'll do it, I know they will.  Because they won't let me get hurt if they can protect me.

 

Then I realize I can still hear Andrea inside.  She's supposed to be on watch.  And that makes me mad!  

 

I go off to find her.  She isn't far away.  She's leaning against a shelf while talking to Glenn and T dog.  Her posture casual, unconcerned.

 

I see red, my words barked out angrily, "What in the Hell are you doing?"

 

Ahe blinks startled.  That makes me angrier, "You! are supposed to be on watch!  What in the Hell are you doin in here?  Get your ass outside now and keep watch!"

 

She huffs, arms crossed and looking away.  Her tone arrogant, "We already killed the ones outside.  We'll be fine."

 

I hear Daryl growl and Merle curse angrily.  I snatch her arm, gripping hard but I don't have the strength to bruise.  Then I drag her towards the front.

 

I'm not strong and she is taller than me.  If she wanted, she could break my hold.  It would be easy for her to shrug me off and ignore me.  But she lets me drag her back to the front and outside.

 

I don't stop when we walk out the doors.  There's a cursed stumbling on the sidewalk just out of reach of the doors but I ignore it.  She notices, her footsteps faltering in surprise but I keep pulling her forward.

 

There is another cursed stumbling up from the street.  It's attention fixed hungrily on us.  And five more are down the road heading this way.

 

She tries to pull away then.  She tries to say we need to go back inside.  But I'm furious with her attitude and I'm done letting her get by.  She needs to realize what kind of world we live in.  It's time to sink or swim.

 

I turn to her, slap a knife in her hand and growl out, "You are responsible for keeping this area clean so we can keep moving supplies.  So either you take out the dead and keep the lot clear or I'm gonna shoot your fucking knees out.  Got it?"

 

She blinks back, pale and startled.  Her gaze jumps back and forth between me and the dead getting closer but she doesn't move.  If anything, her eyes widen in fear.  She wants to run, I can see that clear as day.  So I squeeze her arm again in warning.

 

The Cursed from the road is close now, almost within reach.  I don't panic because Merle and Daryl are at the door keeping watch.  Neither one will let me die.  If the cursed gets too close they will take it out.  But I don't need them to this time.

 

I yank the knife back out of her hand and turn, stabbing the cursed in the head.  It falls limply, like a puppet with it's strings cut.  Then I slap the knife back in her hand and walk away.  She can sink or swim.  She can keep watch or abandon us.  The choice of what to do next is hers.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

 

I leave Merle at the door to watch her back.  I'm not cruel enough to leave her all alone.  Even if she thinks I am.  But she needs to learn.  She needs to understand.  So this is how I'll teach her.

 

Glenn and T dog are pushing a flat cart weighed down with several thin fruit trees.  I tell them good work and remind them to gather seeds, gardening tools, and potting soil too as well as any and all treatments and insecticides they find.  They grab a couple regular carts and head back for more.

 

Daryl and I each push a flat cart to the other end.  There's two aisles of lumber and the last aisle is bricks and cement mixes.  We go to the last and start loading up.  The bags of mix are heavy.  For every one I barely manage to drag onto my cart, Daryl gets four.  And once his is weighed down, end to end and four high, he helps finish loading mine.

 

I can't drag it.  I try but it's just too heavy.  I do notice him as Daryl walks by.  The muscles of his arm bunch up from the strain but he manages it without issue.  For some reason that makes me wanna jump him and kiss him senseless.  

 

I leave the cart to follow him back up front.  Merle is laughing at something outside so I guess Andrea did something embarrassing but is unharmed.  Because if she was hurt he wouldn't be laughing.  And somehow he found a pack of cigarettes because hes smoking.

 

There are two carts full of potting soil bags standing up so Glenn and T dog are working well.  I stroke down Daryls back as I pass and move to Merles side.  He eyes me with a grin and nods outside so I follow his gaze.

 

Andrea is standing in the back bed of the Dixons truck.  Her arm is raised with the knife held up but she just stares overwhelmed at the three dead reaching for her.  It isn't hard to manage three.  She should be able to hit them easy if she just aims it right.  But instead she just stands there staring at them.

 

I lean against his side, my head resting on his arm.  I'm more tired than I should be, "I'll take watch while ya help Daryl with the supplies.  Take a couple more flat carts with ya will ya."

 

He hums, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.  Then he presses his gun into my hands before he heads off.  I lean against the door and watch but she still doesnt strike.  I'm going to have to save her.  I'm too tired for this crap.

 

The squeak of wheels turning sounds behind me.  Glenn and T dog both push a full cart forward.  The first contains potting soil but the other one contains garden tool kits, gloves, and even aprons.  I didn't think of aprons.  But I guess it'll be good to have.

 

I tell them to double check the gardening area for any vegetable or fruit plants growing or any of those garden starter kits.  Glenn lights up saying he saw a sign for that.  Then I remind them to grab pesticides and such.

 

Andrea still hasn't taken out the three and another two are crossing the street.  I'm not shooting a gun but if we don't get rid of them soon then more will come.  I send an angry glare at Andrea,  not that she can see me.  But now I have to help her.

 

There's several tools on the wall nearby; shovels, rakes, and axes.  So I grab up a large axe, the gun tucked into the back of my pants, and I slip out the door.

 

The sidewalk of the store is clear so I step up to the dead crowding the truck and swing away.  The first falls quickly.  The second almost takes the axe with it.  The third turns towards me but still falls to the axe swing.

 

I glare up at her and spit out, "How are you still alive?  All you had to do was kill three o them.  It ain't hard!  Just aim for tha fucking head."

 

She snarls back, "Not everyone can go around stabbing people!"

 

"They ain't people!" I shout back, "They ain't nothin but moving corpses.  Ain't nothin left of who they was and ya gotta stop thinkin they human or they feel cause they dont!"

 

She looks away, her gaze drawn to the two stumbling onto the parking lot.  "Take em out," I snap the order at her.  "Them two are yours so take em both out.  Its just two.  Take em out or walk away cause ya aint comin back home with us if ya aint gonna do what needs done."

 

She looks back wide eyed and a little incredulous.  I hold her gaze, no longer glaring.  I'm not mad, I'm tired.  I'm not going to keep letting her slide.  So I drew a line in the sand.  Now it's her turn to make a move.

 

I see the moment she realizes that I'm serious.  Her eyes narrow and her nostrils flair.  She heaves herself over the side of the truck instead of hopping off the open back.  And she storms off towards the two coming towards us.

 

I take the gun out and hold it up, trailing the dead.  I even shift further out from the truck so she won't be in my line of sight.  As mad as I am with her I don't want to shoot her, even by accident.  And I'm not too sure of my aim.  So I try to give her backup without putting her in danger.

 

She goes to the right one at the side.  Her first strike falls short, a glancing blow off it's cheek.  It turns, stumbling towards her.  She holds up the knife but looks lost.   She doesn't know what to do.

 

So I shout, "Lead it forward a bit.  Then move around behind it and stab up in the back of its head.  They slow and don't turn quick so you got time.  Aim through its head, don't just aim to hit it's head.  Put all your strength in the strike."

 

She does, following my suggestion and it falls to the blow.  But it takes the knife with it and she lets go.  I curse and move forward to pass her the axe.  She still has to take out the second one.  It's hers, just like I told her.

 

The dead turns because I passed so close.  But I bounce back quickly.  It stalls, confused on who to follow.  She lifts up the axe and swings.  The Cursed goes down and this time she yanks the axe back.

 

"Good," I nod to her.  "Now ya just gotta keep the lot clear.  Don't let go of ya weapon.  Ya need that weapon so don't let em take it, ya hear?"

 

She nods, understanding in her eyes even if she still looks mad.  I don't care if she's mad so long as she does the job.  We all have to work together.  We need to guard each other's back.  We need to be able to count on each other.  And for that she will have to pull her weight.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

 

The drive back is easier than the drive out.  There were more cursed but we just drove past them.  We get back as evening is falling and we even picked up another truck.  It's a big old model red metal thing that Merle found out back.  

 

He drove it around and we loaded the wood into it with it pulling a trailer containing a riding lawn mower and five push mowers.  Two of the push mowers are the really old kind that don't need gas, just momentum.  I didn't even know they made those anymore.

 

The delivery truck is filled with bricks and cement.  Merle and Daryl were tossing the bags of cement to each other and stacked them nearly to the ceiling.  The bricks were more difficult but Glenn mentioned a forklift in the garden area.

 

That earned a lot of cursing from Merle and Daryl because those cement bags were heavy as hell.  But they get the forklift and load up the bricks until the truck is full and weighed down on its tired.  Merle warns that we'll have to drive slow and the tires may blow from the weight but we decide to risk it and thankfully it worked.

 

The Dixons truck is filled with potting soil, then trees and plants on top of that.  There's a trailer attached that's full of garden supplies, shovels, as well as power tools, axes, hammers, nails and screws and every tool and tool kit we could find.

 

It's a mess and a lot of stuff but it's a damn good haul and everything we grabbed we need.  There wasn't a generator, unfortunately.  But there were grills.  So three sit in the trailer that we're pulling.

 

But it's late when we get back and everyone's tired.  So we leave the supplies in the trucks, all parked on the street between the gate and the main house.  It'll keep til morning.

 

Plates of spaghetti are passed out the moment we get in.  Then Carol comes around with glasses of iced tea and Tylenol.  A lot of praise is offered up for that thoughtfulness.

 

Sarah climbs up onto Merle's lap where he sits on the couch.  He doesn't bat an eye, he just scoops her up and holds her tight against his side.  She curls close, thumb in her mouth and tired eyes blinking out at the others.

 

Emmett pulls at Daryls legs until he lifts him up.  Then Evelyn runs over with a squeel, demanding attention.  He tucks her on his other side so that she's between the two of us.

 

Micah leans against my legs, silently asking so I pat my lap and let him cuddle close.  Abigale, not to be outdone or left alone, runs and slams against my legs with a demanding yell.

 

Daryl holds up a finger.  He doesn't pop her or even say a thing.  But shes old enough that she shouldn't be acting that way.  She blinks, startled at the reprimand.  Then she reaches for him, fists clenching and unflinching.  He huffs a sigh but pulls her up onto his lap.

 

There's some jostling.  She wants in my lap and Emmett wants his attention so they crawl over each other until they're satisfied.  The others look on amused at the kids antics but don't comment.  Everyone is sore and tired and ready for bed.

 

After supper we get everyone to bed.  The kids have all fallen asleep on us so the others move to help.  T dog picks up Abigale where she's nestled between me and Daryl.  Jackie takes Micah where he tucked into my side.  And Carol passes me both babies, taking Evelyn up.

 

I follow with Daryl carrying Emmett and Merle carrying Sarah.  The little lantern is still glowing softly so it's easy enough to put them down.  And as they leave I tell Carol to take first watch and wake Amy for second.  She agrees.

 

The babies sleep through the night.  Even if they did wake I doubt I would've known.  But they didn't.  Although both have peed through their diapers so I change their clothes too.  And they're both happier in dry onesies but they're also both starving and make their displeasure known.

 

Daryl wakes so I pass him Imogene and a bottle while I take Kendall.  She's still warm so I slip some medicine in her bottle and rub some gel on her gums.  She settles quick enough even if she dislikes the numbness of her mouth.

 

Evelyn whines pitifully so Merle lumbers up and scoops her onto the bed.  I pass him Kendall so I can check on Evelyn and he takes her, blinking himself awake.  She's still warm so I give her medicine and rub gel on her gums.  She bites my finger and I can feel the sharpness trying to break through.  At least hers will be over soon.

 

I give her a bottle too, mostly to sooth her.  She takes it, clinging to me while blinking sleepily around.  But at least she's not screaming.  Although, I'll have to check if we have any teething rings.

 

We carry the babies downstairs.  There's a playpen set up in the kitchen with a soft grey owl blanket and some soft toys.  Carol who is whipping pancake batter in a large bowl shrugs and says, "We found it among the stuff in the trailer so I set it up.  That way we're not keeping them in laundry baskets."

 

When I nod to the bowl she smiles, "Yeah, I like getting it all ready in here even if I have to cook it in the trailer.  Theres more room here."

 

I can understand that.  So I set Evelyn down in the playpen next to an awake Imogene and Kendall.  Then I follow the brothers back upstairs to get the rest of the kids.  

 

Merle nudges Micah awake.  He sighs, annoyed that the others are being carried while he has to walk.  So I stroke his hair and tell him to go wake Glenn and the others.

 

We get the kids settled at their little tables, four of them are in the dining room with the large table pushed further back to make room.  Abigale demands to sit next to Sarah.  Emmett stays where Daryl put him.  And T dog comes downstairs at the head of the group, carrying Micah up on his shoulder.

 

Merle snorts, "He whined ta be carried, didn't he."

 

T dog smirks back with a shrug but doesn't deny it.  He puts Micah at the last table and takes a seat for himself.  Carol comes inside with a plate full of pancakes, telling everyone one each and she's going back to make more.  

 

Daryl and Merle help me sort out a half one each for the kids.  The others pull one each onto their plates, passing the syrup back and forth.  T dog brings over an armfull of bottled water and passes them out.  Jackie helps me pour water into the kids sip cups and pass them out.

 

Amy wanders down and after a quick head count I realize we're all here.  Which means no one is on watch.  I turn to her and ask, "Amy, who's on watch right now?"

 

She blinks back owlishly.  Then her cheeks flood red and with a ducked head she gathers her plate and slips upstairs.  Andrea glares at me but I meet her look unflinching.  

 

"We all gotta job to do," I state calmly.  "All of our lives depend on everyone else in the group.  If we can't trust people to do their part then it puts us all at risk."

 

It's an echo of what I told her yesterday.  She frowns, understanding the lesson and the comparison but not liking that her sister was reprimanded.  

 

I get Glenn to pull fruit pouches from the cabinet.  I remember them being there and the kids love them.  So those get passed around.  And I grab down fruit cups for each of us.

 

Carol comes back with another plate of pancakes and it evens out so that everyone gets two.  That plus the fruit cups is enough of a breakfast to tide everyone over.

 

I send Dale up to relieve Amy, telling him to take her a fruit cup since she didnt get one earlier.  Then, once she's back downstairs with a blush still staining her cheeks, I address the group.

 

"The wall is our priority for now," I tell them.  "So I want two teams working on opposite sides of the main gate going outward.  Daryl, Andrea, and T dog on one side.  Merle, Glen, and Carol will take the other.  One of you keeps the cement mixing while the other two layers it and lays bricks.  I want the whole wall to reach seven feet tall for our safety.  We should have enough supplies for that."

 

There's nods all around.  So I continue, "Dale and I are gonna try to put up something over the gates.  He said he worked with metal welding before.  I know T dog grabbed a blowtorch and there's metal sheets over by the unfinished houses.  I want somethin solid on the gates."

 

There's a few concerned looks towards the kids.  So I add, "Jackie, I'm putting you on watch in the balcony.  Sophia will have the kids in the front yard."

 

Carol shifts in concern so I add, "She'll only be alone with them until noon.  Plus, Jackie will be able to keep an eye on her from the balcony.  We get out their big toys, the bikes and cars and climbing things.  We give them a limit of how far they can go and she just had to keep an eye on them."

 

Sophia perks up happily at that.  No doubt she's been wanting to help.  Kids are like that.  Always helpful, never wanting to be idle if the adults are busy.  This way, she can be useful.  And last is Amy.  She frowns, waiting for her orders.  

 

So I tell her, "You get clean up again.  There's a pile of dishes, pots and pans that need cleaning.  Then I want you to try to sort out and organize the tools we got from the last run."

 

She frowns, unhappy with her job.  But I ignore that and continue, "I'll have Merle open the garage and I want you to try to organize everything into piles.  Garden tools on one side and other tools on the other.  Keep like items together and make us an inventory list."  

 

"After me and Dale get finished," I add, "he is gonna take watch.  Jackie will cook lunch and we'll all take a break.  Then I will go over the inventory sheets and we'll see where we stand.  Everybody good?"

 

They nod their agreement although Amy still doesn't look happy.  Jackie heads upstairs to send Dale down whole Merle opens the garage.  Daryl helps me pull out the big toys, less than what we had at the quarry.  And Carol and Glenn bring out the playpen.

 

Sophia is ecstatic to have so much responsibility now, promising her mother for the tenth time that she'll be good and call for help if she needs it.  The little ones are warned to mind her, that Sophia is in charge of them for a while and they better listen.  Daryl and Merle echo the order which nips any rebellion in the butt.

 

Dale is happy to be of help for more than watch now.  He explains how we will work on it because the blowtorch we have, thank you T dog!, is a different model than he's used to but it will work for what we want.

 

He insist we all take a pair of garden gloves, even the others.  Merle and Daryl scoff at the order but the others comply.  And Glenn and T dog follow us to help move the metal sheets down to the gate.  Then they head over to their groups.

 

Dale has me holding up the metal while he torches it from the other side.  That means the gate is open with him on the outside.  But the others are close so if we get trouble we'll have help.

 

Still, it scares the hell out of us all when Sophia comes running down the hill, waving her arms.  We can't hear her over the sound of the blowtorch so I don't know what she's shouting.  But Daryl and Merle drop what their holding, grab up weapons, and run to grab us away from the gate.

 

Merle drags Dale in by his collar.  It startled him and he struggles to turn off the torch so it doesn't become a danger.  Everyone is shouting over each other and Sophia is out of breath from her sprint and being called in too many directions.

 

I whistle, loud and shrill.  The others shut up at that.  So I look back at Sophia, trusting Merle who's holding the gate closed to shout if it's a herd.  So I tell Sophia, "Take a breath and tell us what happened."

 

She grins.  A huge relieved grin.  And in a gasping breath she answers, "Carl!  I... saw... Carl!"

 

Merle whistles out impressed.  The gate clicks open and he steps out, his call taunting, "Well sir-e, if it ain't Ranger Rick and the little trouble magnet.  What y'all doin in these parts?"

 

Sophia tries to doge around everyone but Carol snatches her back with a scolding.  I order her back up the hill, warning her that she still has a job to do and Carl will be up soon so long as he's not bit.  She whines but relented.  Her feet dragging the ground as she walks back.

 

Merle is stepping back now.  A tall thin man steps in, the same tan cop clothes with the same gold star and the same curly brown hair.  Carl, sweet mischievous boy that he is, wears the cops hat.  I halt them both, warning that they will be checked for bites first.  The man, Rick, actually looks relieved at that.

 

I wave Daryl and Glenn to check them.  They move so that the delivery truck blocks them from view of the others and give the order to strip.  I order everyone else back to work.

 

Dale stands an extra minute with his hand on his chest.  Not that I blame him, he had quite a scare.  But we still have work to do so I push him back to it.  At least we're nearly done with this side of the gate.  Just the other side them the other gate to deal with.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

 

Once the others came back I told Rick and Carl to go up by the kids and rest.  I did warn them that we would expect an explaination at lunch break but we have work due now.  He accepted it easy enough.  And Carl runs up the hill, excited to tell Sophia about his adventure.

 

Me and Dale got the other side of the gate done before the call of lunch came.  Both sides, Merle and Daryls teams, managed to get almost half of their side of the wall done.  Which is amazing progress for a rushed project.  And everyone is hungry and in need of a break.  So we all packed it in and headed up to the main house.

 

Lunch consists of vegetable soup cooked in multiple pots on the stove of the RV.   Someone, Rick apparently, set up all three folding tables that we had as well as the six chairs.  And the canopies are up too, both of them.  So we'll have shade while we eat.  Then he brought the other chairs from inside to complete the count.

 

The kids are already eating at their tables, Amy fluttering about happily.  She's flustered and flushes under her sisters stare but there's still a bounce in her step.  Daryl takes a bowl from her, grumbling that he'll take watch until Dale comes up.   

 

I tell Rick we can eat first but we need to know what happened.  He looks away pained for a moment.  But once he gathers himself he looks me in the eyes, holding my gaze.  I have to admit that it makes me think better of him for it.

 

"You were right," he admits, back straight and gaze locked.  "The CDC was rigged to blow once the generators gave out."

 

I nod, encouraging him to continue.  I knew I was right so this isn't a surprise.  And I'm not going to rub his nose in it.  That would just be petty.  Besides, it looks like he's been beating himself up enough about it.  I stay quiet and wait for him to continue.

 

He blinks in surprise.  As if he expected a reprimand.  But when I just look back patiently, he relaxes.  No longer sitting tense as if waiting to take his licks.  No, he settles back, more at ease now that he knows it won't be held against him.

 

He clears his throat, his gaze jumping around to the others who look back curiously.  And he tells us, "We made it there alright.  Only one man was left, Dr. Jenner.  He was a bit crazy, probably cause he was alone.  But he let us in and for one night we had a full belly and a safe place to sleep."

 

He glances worriedly at the boy.  His tone quiet but still heard, "I didn't know Shane and Lori were together.  Didn't know they were upset that I came back.  Didn't know until Carl screamed when Shane tried to shoot me."

 

I blink surprised at that.  Surely there's more to it than that.  Why would Shane want to shoot him?  And why did it matter that Shane and Lori were screwing?  What is he to them?

 

Dale pats Ricks back consolingly.  Andrea offer a sympathetic look.  Merle notices my confusion.  It probably would've sounded better coming from someone else but he summed it up well.  He said, "Queen Bitch was married to Ranger Rick here but she's been catin around with Deputy Dipshit."

 

Rick looks at him startled.  Then his gaze swings to me.  With a shrug I admit, "I didn't know.  We weren't really welcome around the other group so I never heard the gossip unless it was loud.  But we didn't like Shane or Lori after they tried to get the rest of camp to turn on us for having so many kids.  They said we was a danger to the group."

 

His face twists in anger but the breath rushes out of him leaving him sad.  He offers a soft apology that I wave off.  It's not his fault that they were prejudice people.  He's not to blame.  Especially because he wasn't even there.

 

With a deep breath he continues his story, "Lori and Shane had it worked out.  He would loose me in the woods and take off with her and Carl.  She was supposed to stay by the cars looking for supplies with our son.  But Carl followed us and when he heard Shane talking, how he was gonna kill me, had a gun aimed at my head, Carl screamed.  I woulda died if he hadn't.  And we ran.  But there was a herd of them things on the road and I couldn't find Lori.  So we left, made our way here."

 

He looks around himself.  His gaze taking in all the houses, the open land, and the tall brick wall being built higher.  He nods approvingly which for some reason makes both Amy and Andrea perk up proudly.

 

His eyes meet mine again, gratitude shinning through unshed tears, "Carl was with y'all when you were looking over your maps.  He memorized the route y'all would take and he led us here."

 

I nod.  I figured as much.  The boy is a smart one to be sure.  But I do feel bad for the guy.  Because his wife and her boyfriend would of run off with his son, killing him, and no one would know or care.  

 

I spare a thought to worry over where she could be but it doesn't matter.  I doubt we'll ever see her again.  She doesn't know about this place and there's no way she'll wonder this way on her own.  Plus she was really useless at the quarry so I doubt she'll survive more than a day, if that.

 

I look Rick over.  He looks fit.  Hungry sure, but fit.  So I ask, "You able to work today or do ya need rest?"

 

He grins back grateful, "I wouldn't mind keeping busy."

 

Okay, good.  I turn to the others, "Dale you stay with me.  I want ta get the other gate welded today if we can."

 

He nods his agreement so I turn to the others, "Carol, you're on watch.  Amy, you'll take Carols place while Jackie, you mind tha kids with Carl and Sophia.  Rick here is gonna take Daryls place and Daryl will guard me and Dale since we're gonna be on the clear other side.  All good?"

 

There are nods of agreement all around.  Once Carol finishes her bowl, she hops up to take Daryls place.  I glance over at the kids talking animated to each other and I remember that boy always running off.

 

With a firm voice I call him, "Carl, you're in charge of keeping the kids safe.  Sophia and Jackie can mind them.  But it's your job to make sure nothin dangerous gets near em, ya hear?"

 

He perks up at that, back straight and chest puffed out proudly.  And with all of the seriousness of a young boy he replies, "Don't worry, ma'am, I'll keep an safe."

 

I nod, showing him I accept his promise.  Not that anything will get near them.  But this way he feels useful.  And hopefully it will keep him out of trouble.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

 

A week passes quickly.  The gates are sealed and the wall is built up to seven feet all around.  They even built wooden ledges, something like a tree house just without a tree and only a platform.  That way people can climb up and take out the dead if they crowd the walls.  

 

There are twelve platforms, scattered a bit like a wonky clock face although not all are seperated evenly.  And they've been treated with wood stain, some weather resistant stuff, that the guys picked up on their second run to the hardware store. 

 

Daryl and Merle even spent a few evenings sharpening long sticks into spears. There was a pretty big pike going on the third day. And yesterday they wrangled Rick and Glenn into going outside the wall to drive the spears into the ground, pointed end upward at an angle. 

 

I was shocked when I realized that they were using the spears as an extra line of protection between platforms. But that's what they're doing, putting thick sections of spears in a central area between where the platforms are located. It will help if our walls get swarmed. That way we can defend from the platforms without worrying that the dead will climb up to far for us to reach.

Both brothers were embarrassed by the praise heaped upon them when the others realized what they had done. It's like the others finally realized that the brothers are actually trying to keep everyone safe. I'm surprised at the method because I wouldn't have thought of it. But I'm not surprised that they took initiative to set up some form of protection. 

 

And Andrea, Rick, and Dale have been working to help make more since then. Dale is a lot happier, having somwthing else he can contribute to the group. I think Andrea only agreed to impress Rick but as long as she does the job right, I don't care about her motivation. Amy tried but gave up before she finished one. So it's mostly just the five of them working on it.

 

And miracle of miracles, Rick knows where a generator can be found.  So today were going to the nearest police station to raid for weapons and the generator.  Hopefully they'll have one but even if they don't, we still want the guns.

 

My bruises have healed to a sickly green on my inner thigh and stomach.  Daryl still hisses when he sees them. He won't touch me either. As if he thinks he'll hurt me. But otherwise he doesn't comment.  Not that he ever talks much. 

 

Merle is back to his normal self.  Or whatever counts as normal for him.  He has his good days where is chest is puffed out in pride and he prances about like he owns the world.  Those days are full of lewd humor and offensive jokes.  Mostly because he doesn't know any others.

 

And for some reason, the offensive jokes have endeared him, or at least made him less of a danger and more of an annoyance, to T dog.  They've reached some kind of understanding.  Although I have no idea when that happened.  Only T dog doesn't get mad when Merle cracks a joke because he'll throw one just as offensive right back.  

 

And there are boundaries to what they will accept.  Which is weird as hell to know that they know which lines not to cross.  I don't think they actually talked it out loud because I just can't see Merle talking calmly with anyone.  But each have drawn a line in the sand of what they will and won't tolerate.  And for some reason, they respect each other's boundaries on that.

 

So it's still weird as hell, but no longer a shock, to see the two of them laughing while throwing insults back and forth.  It's a strange friendship.  If it can be called a friendship.  It's something anyways. And I can only think it's a good thing.

 

Andrea has also backed off.  I don't know why.  I don't think she dislikes him any less.  But she doesn't rise to the teasing and random catcalls.   She still doesn't like him.  And when he heckles her, she lashes out in anger.  He just laughs it off like they're joking. He probably thinks they are.

 

Carol... well, she's not scared of him.  And while Merle is loud and offensive, he doesn't really mean any harm.  It's just the only way he knows to communicate.  And she seems to pick up on that because she doesnt mind talking to him.  Well, so long as he isn't too offensive.  

 

And Sophia is a brave little thing.  I don't know if it's because she's seem him with the little ones or not but she ain't scared of him either.  Just the other day, she convinced him to take her on a piggy back ride around the yard.  And he did it.  Which I thought was hilarious but the others acted shocked.  

 

Amy and Glenn spent the last two days cutting the yards.  Neither was happy about it but it needed doing.  And Carol has become our unofficial cook because she's the best here at it.  She's also damn good at organizing, her and Jackie both.  So we've set both of them to keep an inventory of everything we have.

 

Rick has been getting better.  It's noticeable to see when his whole face brightens, usually when the kids are playing.  He's a handsome man in a very small community.  So it doesn't surprise me when both Andrea and Amy start sniffing around him.

 

I'm sure he realizes it.  How could he not with the way they posture.  But it's funny to watch them trying to impress him.  The brothers think so too because of course they noticed.   And I know Merle has joked with the other guys about it, especially Rick.  But hes been careful not to tease either sister too much.

 

Although, there was the incident early this morning.   He was riding high on pride, getting the platforms finished and stained, and he was heckling them.  I remember hearing him joking that Rick should share them, a two for one deal.  And it was descriptive and lewd enough to quiet the other guys and have the women run in embarrassment.

 

Andrea had glared at me, tears in her eyes, as if it was my fault.  So I grabbed Merle with the excuse that I wanna have a look around our future home.  All but the two youngest kids followed us, somehow including Carl and Sophia.

 

The house is nice, big compared to where I grew up but average sized for this neighborhood.  The outside is a pale red brick with tall windows and a dark red door with glass near the top in a half circle on its flat side.  That is, it looks like the sun rising over the horizon.  And the glass isn't normal glass, it's stained glass with vibrant red roses and big green leaves.

 

The door opens up to hardwood floors leading into the sitting room on the left.  The walls are basic white with the lower portion framed in large squares within squares.  It's pretty, but I can't help but feel it needs color, yellow or blue maybe.  

 

I ask Merle.  He just laughs, "Hell, Darlin, what do I care what color it is?  Ain't like I can shoot up to the store for a can a paint."

 

The kids move more eagerly now that they understand that this one will be home.  I point out that there isn't any furniture so we'll have to get some.  Merle just grins and tells me to make a list.  The kids are starting to scatter so I tell Sophia and Carl to take them upstairs to pick a bedroom.  That gets them excited.

 

Merle stays close as we move into the kitchen.  It's all open floor plan with white columns coming down for support and to act as a visual border between the areas.  The stairs are dark wooden steps, polished darker, with white rail going up.  And while the other house had the gapped railing all along the top, this one has a half wall to border the upstairs.  So at least that will be safer for the little ones.

 

As for the kitchen itself, it's glass cabinets in white frames with silver knobs and steel appliances.  There's a double oven built in amongst the cabinets as well as a fridge with double doors and a bottom drawer that pulls out.  The countertops are a black and white marble with specks of sparkling red and ruby drops throughout.  And there's a large central island, longer than its wide, decorated the same.

 

I let out a gust of breath.  It's beautiful!  My hands stroke over the counter tops and can't help but wish that this was really mine.  I wish that I could use these appliances.  I want to cook in this kitchen, overlooking this living room.  This is our house.  It will be our home!

 

Thick muscular arms cage me against the island.  "Damn, Darlin," Merle drawls, "if we knew ya would be getting all wet we'd' ve dragged ya over here sooner."

 

I huff a laugh.  Now I remember why I wanted privacy.  I turn in his arms and he lets me.  His smirk is his good one, when he's all puffed up and proud.  I don't want to get him upset but I need to talk him down, a little at least.

 

He presses closer, edging me back against the counter.  I press on his chest, enough for him to know I don't want to feel trapped.  It's a silent request for him to step back a little.  He's usually quick to comply.

 

But this time he grins, grabs the back of my thighs, and lifts me up on the island.  I'll admit to letting out a very embarrassing squeak at the suddenness of the movement.  I just wasn't expecting it.  And he's grinning back at me, smug at surprising me.

 

"Merle," I warn, which earns an amused huff from him.  "I asked ya here ta talk, not ta play."

 

His eyes light up.  His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he grins and asks, "So ya do wanna piece of ol' Merle."

 

"I wanna talk ta ya about the way you're teasin the sisters," I point out.

 

He huffs annoyed.  And he pouts, an honest to god pout.  So I stroke up and down his arms to sooth him.  Because I'm not really mad.  I just think he went a little far this last time.  

 

So I tell him, "What ya said was hurtful to em.  I know ya wasn't meanin it that a way but it was.  An I need ya ta not do that again."

 

He steps closer until he's pressed flush against me.  His hands rub at my thighs distractedly.  It's not sexual.  He's comforting himself that I'm here and that he can trust me because I trust him.  It's a soothing touch, a bit of a claim that I'm his, but it's soothing for him.

 

I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him down until he presses his face against my neck.  Because he's going to get upset and this is the best way to keep him calm.  I need to explain what he did wrong without him going off on a tangent.  So this is how it goes.

 

His arms circle my waist and he pulls me closer to the edge, tighter against him.  It's bordering on too much intimacy but I trust him so I stay relaxed in his hold.  Even on his bad days he'd never hurt me.  And he needs the intimacy, the connection.  So I allow it.

 

"Merle," I try to explain.  "I know ya was just teasin them but ya went a little far with that last bit.  It ain't our place ta judge if they wanna share him or fight over him.  That's between the three o them just like whats between you and me and Daryl ain't their business.  Right?"

 

He doesn't respond so I push a little further, "Ya wouldn't like it none if they tried teasing that I could watch you two goin at it..."

 

I don't even get the chance to finish before he throws himself back with a rabid snarl.  His face is twisted and his eyes are hard, angry.  I grab a hold of the countertop so I don't fall.  But it doesn't stop my heart from racing or my body from tensing up.  It's the first time I've ever been scared of him.

 

He flinches, as if I physically struck him.  Then he turns, growling like an angry bear, and storms out into the backyard.  What in the Hell was that?


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

 

I didn't expect Merle to calm himself down enough to go with us but he did.  He ain't smiling or puffed up any more.  He's quiet, an angry, offended quiet.  And he found beer somewhere and already downed three bottles.  But at least he's looking calmer now.  That's something, I think.

 

And while he isn't lashing out I'm careful not to get too close.  Because he's still really volatile right now.  I'm not even sure if it's a good idea to take him on the run with us but we need his strength.  And it won't be safe to leave him here alone.

 

Daryl left this morning to go hunting since we already decided who would go.  And everyone will be thrilled for the fresh meat.  He'll probably be gone all day so there's no hope of him getting back in time to help control Merle.

 

And someone has to.  Because he is just one comment away from snapping and really hurting someone.  And I don't know if I can calm him.  I'm not even sure if he'll welcome my touch now.  He's way too mad for me to risk it.

 

We can't waste the whole morning so I gather those going with me and remind them of the plan.  Because you have to keep reminding them so they don't go off half cocked.  The last thing we need is someone getting killed because they were being stupid.

 

So I remind them, "Okay, people, Rick, Glenn, me and Merle are going on this run.  We're gonna take the two big trucks, two to each, and Rick is gonna lead us to the police station.  We're gonna try to slip in, grab all the guns and ammo we can find and hopefully find a generator or two.  It will take time but we're aiming to be back in anywhere from four to six hours."

 

There's a lot of nodding.  Although there are also several wary looks thrown Merle's way.  He ignores everyone so I call their attention back to me.

 

"Now, T dog is on watch and in charge while we're gone.  Dale and Jackie are gonna go over the inventory and figure out how many shelves were gonna need.  Amy and Andrea. You're both on laundry duty and starting the garden seedlings that Jackie set aside.  Carol, Sophia, and Carl, y'all got the kids.  All good?"

 

"Yeah," Andrea snaps back, "Why am I not helping on this run?"

 

I blink dumbly at her because, really... what the hell?  But Merle snarls, "Because you're as useless as shit against the damned Cursed and you're a shit shot.  Until ya get trained, which ya keep refusin ta do, by tha way!, ya aint goin on no runs."

 

She puffs up, ready to snap back.  But Glenn of all people blurts out, "He's right."

 

His eyes widen as if he's as surprised as the rest of us.  And after a moment of blinking around at everyone, he swallows loudly and adds, "You don't listen on runs.  They are life and death situations and you don't go where you're told or do as your told.  The reason you nearly got bit last time is because you wouldn't go keep watch until Charlie dragged you out."

 

"She tried to kill me," she defends angrily.  "She threatened to shoot me and she left me out there with those things!"

 

"You weren't alone," T dog jumps in.  "She killed the first couple and Merle stayed at the door in case you were in danger.  Hell, you were safer than I was the first time I saw a Cursed.  It wouldn't have happened if you had listened."

 

Her face blazes red in anger and she storms off.  So I pat T dogs shoulder and leave him to it.  We climb into the truck cabs and pull away.  T dog follows us down to the gate to let us out before going back to replace Dale.

 

The drive is silent for a while.  I stay on the passenger side to give Merle room to be calm.  It lasts until we're past the intersection when he slams his fist against the dashboard.  It's a loud sudden movement that makes me jump.  He does it twice more, each time harder.

 

I press closer to the door, now really afraid.  He starts swearing.  Violent words spew out in a rage with random punches to the dash.  His knuckles are already bleeding but he doesn't seem to notice.

 

I hold myself as still as I can.  That childish instinct that if you don't move then the monster can't find you.  It stupid, he knows I'm here.  And he knows I'm afraid which is probably half of why he's mad.  

 

I pull my knees up to my chest and press my cheek against the window.   Maybe he'll calm down soon.  Maybe he'll run out of steam and all the anger will be gone.  He always calms down.  But it's usually Daryl that handles him when he's in a temper like this and they always come away with bruises.  So that doesn't help me stay calm.

 

I scream when he grabs my arm.  I wasn't expecting the touch and with how violently he's been raging and punching the dash I can't help but be afraid.  I've closed my eyes and curled away from him because it's just too much and I'm scared which is probably upsetting him.  I shouldn't have screamed though.

 

The truck jerks violently to the right, striking and scraping against another car, before it pulls back to straighten.  I'm shaking and crying and my heart is beating too fast.  So I don't really notice when we stop or that he gets out.

 

I flinch away when the door opens.  I don't mean to but I do.  Then I have to blink past the tears to see Glenn standing there.  And suddenly I'm choking on sobs and I can't catch my breath.

 

Uncertain arms wrap around me.  And I'm shaking and crying and I can't calm down.  Then I'm being pulled down, out of the truck.  I start to struggle, because I'm supposed to stay with Merle.  But then another set of hands are pulling at me.

 

I blink up at Rick who's standing at Glenn's side.  He's talking quietly about moving me to the other truck.  His voice is that soothing commanding tone that cops have.  When they're making you do something while calming you down too.  And it works.

 

I look around for Merle and see him sitting on the tailgate smoking.  He doesn't look at us.  He doesn't make any acknowledgment of us at all.  But I'm too scared to call out to him.  So I let them pull me to the other truck.

 

We don't leave right away.  Rick starts asking me about what runs I have planned and what supplies do we need to keep a watch for.  It helps.  Lets me focus on other things.  And soon enough I'm calm again and explaining all that we'll need for the homes.

 

Without missing a step, Rick starts the truck and drives onward.  I glance back long enough to see Merle driving the other truck, following us.  So I relax and continue listing all the things we'll need for our people to make homes.  It carries us through the rest of the drive.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

 

The police station is an old red brick building with black tinted glass doors and big police logos all over it.  There's two police cruisers in a side parking lot and about a dozen and a half Cursed stumbling around.

 

We all have blades so we move to down as many as we can.  Merle pushes beyond our group.  His fury lending him strength to destroy more than half of them.  But he doesn't leave us.  He waits for us at the gate.  And at Ricks prompting we drive through the gate to the back.  Glenn drives the first truck so I drive Merle's.

 

Rick and Merle take the lead with Glenn and me following behind.  Its dark inside, except for the bouncing beams of light from the flashlights Rick and Glenn have.  

 

We start in a long grey hallway with a black box shaped computer stuck halfway up the wall.  Next to that is a cork board with lots of fliers and notices pinned up.  There's a frosted glass door halfway down that Rick leads us past.

 

I don't like it.  There is movement beyond the frosted glass and that means cursed are in there.  I dont like having them at our backs and I hiss that to the others.  

 

Rick hesitates before replying, "Its the main entrance through there.  No way of knowing how many are in there and it's dangerous to try.  We gotta keep going."

 

I don't like it but I can't argue.  Although I notice Merle is tense and keeps shooting concerned looks back at me.  I'm not helpless.  He and Daryl saw to that.  But this doesn't feel safe to me and I'm doubting Ricks judgement on this.

 

Still, we're committed to this run so we keep going.  Rick leads us down two more short hallways that almost double us back. There, thankfully, we don't find any Cursed.  Then we slip around another corner and have to make a mad dash into a nearby room thanks to a herd filling the hall.

 

Merle is cursing as he and Rick push a tall blue locker cabinet in front of the door.  The kind that has four lockers, two up top and two below.  Then, at Merle s urging, they push another one behind it.  Glenn is flashing his light around the room nervously but it looks clear.  It also looks like a locker room.

 

The banging and moaning at the door settles down after a while.  We find several more flashlights and each of us take a look around.  There's several lockers and benches spaced between them.  Some have clothes and personal effects.  One has a gun and three have an extra ammo clip to match the black handgun.

 

Rick finds a map on the wall that he and Glenn start arguing over.  It's one of those fire evacuation maps so all the main areas and exits are marked clearly.  I leave them to it and follow Merle into the open shower area.

 

He's tense, staring at a huge smear of blood that's dried across the floor.  There isn't a body to be found but he still sweeps every corner with the flashlight.  I leave him to it and flip one of the shower knobs on.

 

Water sprays out loud, echoing in the quiet.  I jump about a foot in the air and Merle swings around with his gun drawn.  But by God, there's a shower... a working shower!

 

The water is lukewarm but it's enough.  So I call out happily, "I'm taking a shower, I don't care what y'all do."

 

Its insane and stupid and I shouldn't but I'm still going to.  I'm already pulling my shirt over my head when I hear Rick and Glenn take off around the corner.  I strip down, bundling my clothes and throwing them on a nearby bench.  The I jump under the spray with an excited squeal.

 

Merle chuckles, "Damn, Darlin, you ain't shy, are ya?"

 

I laugh, an edge of hysteria to it but if I'm gonna die then I'm taking a shower.  I tell him as much.  He doesn't respond.  So I just ignore him and hold my head under the spray.

 

It's wonderful.  A lethargic sort of calm settles over me.  I don't even react to the hand that stokes up my spine.  It's kinda nice.  A long possessive touch.  It reminds me of Daryl.  But Daryl isn't here.

 

I turn around, rubbing at my face to be able to see. And two hands settle on my waist, holding me.  I know it's Merle without looking.  Of course it is Merle.  The others ran as soon as I said I was taking a shower.  And Merle has never been shy.  

 

And he really doesn't have any boundaries as far as nudity goes.  So it doesn't surprise me when I realize he's naked.  I still blink at him a minute because he is only the second man I've seen naked and Daryl doesn't really like taking off his clothes if he can help it.

 

So I stare longer than is polite.  I notice his chest with all the pale curly hair.  I've seen his chest before but it's different now.  So I look my fill.  He doesn't mind.  Hell,  he's probably smug about it.  

 

I notice the scars.  Various cuts that have healed on there own.  Some are puffed up  white while others are sunken and silver or pink. I notice the mass of twisted flesh rising up his left leg and moving to his back.  I reach out hesitantly, giving him time to pull away.  

 

Because Daryl doesn't like it when I touch his.  So I half expect Merle to shove my hands away.  Or maybe I expect him to move my hands elsewhere.  But he doesn't.  In fact, he relaxes under my touch.

 

I spare a glance up at his face.  He's calm, relaxed.  And there's a gentle smile on his face as he looks down at me.  His own hands rub up and down my arms, pulling me closer.  I let him, trusting him.

 

I trace over the scars.  I start with the ones on his chest, nearly lost amongst the hair. Most are sunken and silver. I let my fingers lightly trace each line. Then I trail down his side, where the raised flesh twist towards his back. I let my fingers trail harder over this. There's dips and bends and almost swirls. There's a lot of pain carved into his body.

 

I don't ask, because he'll tell me when he's ready.  But I touch them to let him know I see them.  I let him know that they're okay, they don't scare me.   And the more I touch, the more he relaxes. Now he knows that I'm not ashamed or disgusted. He knows I won't hold these against him. It's all about comfort and trust.

 

He huffs a laugh, "Not many ladies wanna touch on ol' Merle."

 

I meet his gaze evenly. But he isn't insecure or questioning me. He's just stating a fact. It's just another truth of life that he's learned.

 

His lips quirk, "I spent more time at tha strip joint than at tha cabin. There was even a few that let me touch em a little."

 

I wait, because this has a purpose. Something he's thought of that he wants me to know. He just has to find the words. And with a grin he does.

 

"There was one," he tells me. "Little bitty thing with a mouth like a sailor. Ahe didn't take shit from nobody. Was even pregnant when she started dancin. I liked her. She'd let me touch all over that belly o hers."

 

The pride is back, a swelling of pleasure at the memory. And I understand. He felt a connection to her even though she wasn't his. He laid a claim of sorts on her. She was his to protect while in his territory. It's an odd way of looking at things but it's how the Dixons see the world. Either you belong to them or you don't.

 

"Can't wait for ya belly ta be all swollen," he tells me smugly. "Gonna keep hands on ya all tha time. Ya ain't gonna have ta walk a step with ol' Merle around."

 

And I understand that too. It's a promise of protection. A claim. As sure as any claim he's ever made. A possessive promise of protection that honestly thrills me more than I expected. So I smile and press a kiss of gratitude to his cheek.

 

His own hands are running up and down my back.  But his movements are slow and relaxed.  He's not flirting now, just touching.  And if I want then it won't go beyond this.  That's what his touch is saying.  

 

I'm surprised when he offers to wash my hair.  But it's a sweet offer so I say yes.  He grins at that, slipping away to grab a black bottle from a nearby bench.  Then he's back, pulling me closer to his chest and burying his hands in my hair.

 

His hands are large and strong.  So the feel of his hands in my hair nearly make me go limp.  I do let out a moan though.  Because his fingers scratching lightly at my scalp feels wonderful.  So I relax against him, trusting him to keep me safe.

 

He lets loose a groan, running his hands down my back.  His voice whispers strained, "Damn, Darlin, if we ain't gonna fool around then we gotta stop.  Cause you are all kinds of fine and I want ya, I ain't gonna lie."

 

I consider it.  For the first time since they started hinting at sharing me, I'm actually considering it.  I almost worry that it's a test.  But I know them well enough to know that they really would feel more comfortable sharing a woman.  Something about it makes them feel more secure.  I can't quite figure out why.  But I'm sure that they are serious in their offer.

 

Still, I don't think I can have sex with other people so close.  Granted, privacy doesn't really exist anymore for safety reasons.  But I don't know if I can do this here.  So reluctantly, I pull back.

 

He clings for a moment.  A moment where hope and awe fill his gaze.  But he smiles at me and let's me step back.  He watches as I rinse my hair,  his eyes roaming over my body.  Then when I'm done, I step out of the spray and wave him into it.

 

He grins, ducking under the water just to shake it off like a dog.  I start laughing because that's why he did it, to make me laugh.  He's not mad that I stopped us.  He won't hold it against me.  And he's not mad about earlier anymore.  Which is awesome.

 

So I grab up the black bottle, a two in one shampoo and conditioner.  And while he doesn't have much hair, he keeps his head shaved, I rub at his scalp and then down his back.  He jokes that I'm gonna get him going just to leave him dry but he's just teasing.  

 

Glenn sticks his head around the corner to ask, "You two gonna be done soon?"

 

He blinks surprised that we're both naked but more surprised that Merle isn't paying me attention when he looks.  I imagine he would be scandalized if he had seen us earlier.  But we're not doing anything inappropriate right now and I don't think he expected that.

 

I wave him forward, "If y'all wanna take a shower then y'all better come on now before we gotta make a run for it."

 

He slips back around the wall only to rush back grinning a minute later.  I pass him the wash bottle, sparing a glance as Rick walks through.  But I'm careful not to look and so are they.  

 

Merle pulls me around to hide my body with his.  It's a possessive move but a caring one.  It's his way of saying that I'm his, I'm under his protection, and he ain't afraid to fight them for me.  So I kiss his cheek in thanks.

 

He smiles down at me, offering a soft apology.  I stroke up his chest, offering my own, "I'm sorry too, Merle.  I know ya wasn't gonna hurt me and I trust ya, I do.  I just panicked cause the last few times ya got like that Daryl would lead ya away and ya would both come back covered in bruises."

 

He frowns, rubbing his head.  "I wasn't where I was," he offers painfully.  "All I saw was a woman afraid of me and I didn't know what happened.  Ya wouldn't touch me.  Ya wouldn't come near me.  I just wanted ya close again, is all."

 

Tears burn my eyes, "Damn, Merle, I'm so sorry.  I thought ya needed me ta back off a bit.  If I had realized that ya needed me ta be close then I woulda, ya know that."

 

He leans down to rest his forehead against mine.  His breath puffs out against my lips, "I need ya, Darlin, I need ya near me.  Ya the only one that ain't afraid of me and I need ya to not be afraid."

 

I scratch at his scalp and squeeze at the back of his neck, "I trust ya, Merle Dixon.  I trust ya and I ain't afraid of ya."

 

I swallow, not wanting to admit it but I need him to understand.  So I confess, "I woulda been fine but ya being mad an us passin that drug store threw me for a loop.  I panicked and couldn't calm down."

 

He tightens his hold, growling out his promise, "It won't never happen again, I swear.  I won't risk ya again.  I'll kill em all first."

 

And I know he will.  Because I trust him.  So I kiss his cheek and his nose and his forehead.  He steps back so I can step away.  I turn off the water, no need to waste it.  And we should get dressed.

 

There are no towels but there is a grey blanket near the lockers so I use that to dry off.  It doesn't smell bad, only really smells like detergent, so it should be safe.  Then I get dressed back in my t shirt and jeans.  I didn't have a change of clothes but it was too wonderful an opportunity to pass up.

 

Merle walks past, uncaring or more likely proud of his nudity.  I offer him the blanket which he takes with a little prompting.  Of course he has to make a lewd joke about smelling me on the cloth but I laugh it off.  And he gets dressed once he's dry enough.

 

By that time the other two are finished.  I still can't find towels so I pass the blanket to them with an apologetic shrug.  Glenn eyes it suspiciously but accepts it easy enough.  Then once the two of them are dressed, Glenn outlines his plan.

 

"We can move through the air vents and bypass the herd," he explains.  "First stop is the Armory which is only a little further away.  Then we take the vents again and  drop down into the stairwell as long as it's clear and the generators should be in the basement."

 

Its a good solid plan.  It will probably go belly up and we could all die.  But its a good plan.  And its better than waiting in here.  Even if it is awesome to have a shower. 

 

Merle suggests leaving the shower running so any Cursed will be drawn into this room and if we move one of the locker cabinets away from the door then they should be able to push their way through the rest of the way.

 

Rick is quick to agree and even offers to be the one to move the locker at the last minute.  So I turn on all of the shower heads and slip back into the room.  Merle hoists me up, pointing to Glenn who's already inside the vent.  The Merle climbs up after me.


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

 

The armory was a mess.  Rick says they probably grabbed everything they could when things went bad.  Still, we get over a dozen guns and over three dozen boxes of ammo.  We take it all.  Then it's back up in the vent to find the generators.  

 

Merle grumbling the whole way about the tight fit. Of course the comment he makes leads into a lewd joke and him slapping my butt since he's right behind me. But he's just trying to diffuse the tension. And its Glenn that leads us onward to find the basement.

 

That too is easy.  The stairwell is empty so we slip down without trouble.  And there's no Cursed in the room.  There's even two generators and four drums of fuel for them.  So that's a huge find.

 

No the problem is as simple as it is annoying.  How in the hell are we going to get these bulky ass generators up the stairs and outside?  Because even one will take all three of them to move with me acting as guard.  So what now?

 

Merle stares a bit uncomprehending.  Rick is frowning, scratching at his curly hair under that silly hat.  And Glenn is actually staring up as if the answer will fall from the ceiling.  Yep, this is a problem.

 

We waste a half hour with each of us contemplating the task ahead.  But then Glenn finds the dollies tucked in a corner and takes charge.  He says, "Here's what we'll do.  We take one at a time.  You two pushing while I pull with rope and Charlie guards our back."  

 

"We go up the stairs," he frowns.  "It'll let out onto the main street so there may be dead up there but we should be able to get it."

 

It works.  Somehow the dead don't come running.  Even though the dollies hit each step of the echoing metal staircase, they don't come running.  So we get the first one up to the street.

 

The sun is blinding after the dark corridors.  But we get the first one outside with a lot of huffing and shoving.  And some grumbling on if it's worth it to go back for the second one.

 

There are cursed out here, several.  But Merle and Rick help me get them while Glenn runs for the trucks.  We leave the keys in the ignition for just this reason.  And we're careful not to use guns because the sound would attract more.  

 

Glenn goes back for the Dixon truck while the other two are pushing and struggling to get the generator in the first.  Merle is cursing like crazy and even Rick is muttering that we should've brought more people.  But they get it in the truck by the time Glenn gets back around.

 

The three of them go back to the basement for the second one while I stay at the stairwell door.  And while a few dead walk over, they're easy to take out.  I think they're slower from the heat, maybe.  Or it's because most of them are at least half eaten.  It's a lucky day, all things considered.

 

So of course it all goes belly up.  And its not our fault and it's not the dreads fault.  Oh, no.  This is again the living.  Four men shooting shotguns from the back of a pickup truck while hooting and hollering like idiots.

 

I would've just ignored them.  I would've let them drive off leading the dead away.  But then I saw the woman and there's no way in hell I'm ignoring this.  Not after what happened to me.  No sir!

 

So I grab up the handgun and the spare clips and run further down the street.  I figure I got time before the guys get back.  So I get as close as I can which still leaves me far away. Then I lay down on my belly next to a car. So if I have to I can roll under it.

 

Merle is the one to teach me to shoot.  And he said, for any target that's more than three car lengths in front of me, I need to take a breath and focus because I have time.  It's different if they're close.  If they're close then you don't aim, you just point and fire.  Any idiot can do that.  But aiming is hard.

 

They're circling the woman in their truck, trapping her between them and the dead.  And there's a lot of dead drawn by all their noise.  They're puffed up and proud, grinning down at her.  They're gonna stay there to watch her die.  That's what they're trying to do.

 

I look back at the woman.  She's a tall black woman with long thick braids falling down her back.  She's scared, who wouldn't be, but she doesn't show it.  She glares back at them.  She knows that they are the biggest threat.  And she's not giving them the satisfaction of seeing her afraid.

 

I notice her dark clothing is torn on the legs but she's not limping.  I notice the sword in her hand, a long thin blade.  She holds it like she knows it.  So I don't question if she can use it.  She's smart.  Smart for using a silent weapon.  

 

I breath out and fire.  The first shot takes the back left tire.  The second takes the back right.  The third takes the man turning with his gun raised, looking for the threat.

 

The woman is running this way.  I'm not surprised, everywhere else is blocked to her.  And the dead that were nearly on top of her now swarm over the truck like a tidal wave.  

 

I scramble up from the sidewalk.  She sees me, her eyes wide.  But she comes when I wave her forward.  And we're both running back down the street.

 

She sees the generator.  She sees Glenn at the door staring back fearfully.  She sees Merle and Rick shoving the second one out of the door.  It all clicks in her head in a second.

 

I turn to take out the cursed that have stumbled up to the trucks.  She's nearby, her sword swinging.  And together we buy them the time they need to get the generator loaded up.

 

The herd is coming this way.  Several are still crawling over the truck but more are coming for us.  For all that were quiet with the blades they still know we're here.  So I rip open the bag and pass Rick and Merle a gun.  Just to clear us up enough to leave.

 

The gunshots are loud, echoing.  But both men are damn good shots and the main pack crowding close to us falls quickly.  Glenn hops in their truck so I hop in Merle's.  We both crank them up at the same time.  

 

The woman slides in, her blade sheathed.  Then Merle climbs in still firing into the crowd.  I reverse hard enough to jolt us all.  Then I slam it into gear and peal away from the curb.  Merle keeps shooting for a minute before pulling the door closed.

 

Then he turns, incredulous, "Who tha Hell are you?"

 

"Michonne," she replies evenly.

 

"Where tha Hell did ya come from?" He demands.

 

So I tell him, "Was a bunch of assholes in a truck shootin and drivin crazy ta draw tha cursed.  They had her trapped."

 

He huffs.  Not really angry, more worried.  "Didn't know where ya was," he growls out, glaring at me.  "Chinaman opened tha door and a damn deadun tried ta take a bite of em.  Ya wasn't there."

 

It sounds like an accusation but it's really worry.  And I know as soon as we get far enough away he's gonna need to touch me to remind himself that I'm alive and unharmed.  I'm proven right when he orders me to stop in the middle of the road and get out.

 

I don't argue.  He's out the door before the truck has completely stopped and I barely have time to shut off the engine before he's pulling my door open and pulling me out.

 

He doesn't drag me away.  His hands are rough as he shoves my shirt up.  But I can feel the fine trembling from worry so I stay relaxed and compliant.  And when he pulls my shirt off and shoves my pants down I let him.

 

Rick barks at him that we don't have the time but he snarls back that they should mind their business.  Then he's back to looking me over, more with hands than eyes.  And he's rough when he turns me around but he's slowing down, no longer as rushed.  He even kneels to rub down my ankles.

 

Then he wraps himself around me, caging me against the car.  I can feel his heart pounding against my back.  He was really afraid.  He believed, even for a moment, that I was gone.  So I wrap my arms over his and hum the kids lullibye to sooth him.

 

For all that he's an adult and he'll grumble and complain about it, he likes the song.  He and Daryl both will edge closer when I sing to the kids.  They'll act like they don't care.  They'll act like like they think lullibyes are foolish.  But they both like them.  So I hum to him.

 

It takes long enough for Rick to start questioning whether staying longer is safe.  Then Merle barks at them to back off and he stays blocking me from view as I pull my clothes back on.  Again his hands trail over me, this time in apology for the rough treatment.  But I just lean up and press a kiss to his cheek.

 

He's calmer now, relaxed.  And proud for a successful run.  So he grins up at the woman, Michonne, and orders her to hop down and strip.

 

She freezes.  And its clear to see that this can go bad.  So I explain, "I gotta check ya for bites.  It's easier if ya strip so I can check ya.  We did the same ta Rick and his boy.  We gotta be safe."

 

Merle grins, no doubt about to make a lewd joke that would be totally inappropriate.  So I shove him back and tell him to guard us.  He turns his back with a laugh, happy now, but he does as I ask.

 

So I wave her forward, offering an understanding smile.  She nods, she gets it now.  His behavior probably startled her but she understand it better now.  She knows he wasn't hurting me, he was looking for bites, for wounds.  

 

So she slips from the truck, dark eyes cautious as she looks around.  But she complies, removing clothes to show dark skin.  There's a couple scars, still pink and shiny, but nothing bleeding.  

 

I kneel down to look at her leg, where the pants were torn.  There's a wound.  It's a wide, dug in wound.  But it's one I've seen scarred on Merle.  I still ask, "Bullet?"

 

She nods.  So I step back and motion for her to get dressed.  Then I tell her there's a first aid kit in the glove box.  Merle calls us both to hop back in the truck and he'll drive.  So as soon as we're back in I help her wrap her leg.


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

 

We get back to a thick tense atmosphere.  Something happened while we were gone.  Something that caused everyone to cast worried looks around.  And even the sight of the generators doesn't make them smile.

 

I slip from the truck, zeroing in on T dog.  He was in charge while I was gone so I bark out, "What happened?"

 

Rick is there, at my back.  T dog looks at us both, rubs his face, and admits, "I don't know."

 

I would've questioned him but he put up both hands and explained, "Daryl came back from his hunt a few hours ago, big ass buck on his back."

 

That's good.  We all have been craving fresh meat.  But T dog isn't through.  He adds, "He was normal for a while.  Carried it into the other back yard and tied it to their patio thing to dress it."

 

The house he points to is next to the big house.  It has a large back deck with a wooden structure, like a canopy, over a small portion.  Only it's not a canopy because it's just wooden slants making an unsolid roof.  But Daryl claimed it for processing, threw down a thick plastic tarp, and headed off to hunt.

 

"Don't know what happened," T dog continues.  "He seemed alright at first.  But then he comes storming through carrying a basket of wrapped meat.  He throws it on the counter, snatches up the kids and loads them in the RV."

 

I glance over, finally noticing the RV isn't in the driveway.  But where did he take them.  He wouldn't hurt them, I know that.  But something pissed him off enough to take the kids on his own.  And he didn't leave the gate, he wouldn't and the others would've rioted.  So he's probably at our house with them.  But why? 

 

T dog sighs, "Carol tried to take one back from him but he snapped at her that they ain't her kids.  He was snapping at everyone.  And he took all the kids, Sophia and Carl too, and drove them down that way."

 

Rick tenses when his son is mentioned.  But Merle just huffs annoyed and snaps out, "Someone done pissed em off big time now.  Y'all best leave em ta calm on is own."

 

Carol is hugging herself, wrapped in a grey sweater that it's really too hot for.  But shes afraid and trying to comfort herself.  Daryl must've really scared her earlier.  But he wouldn't hurt her.  Neither brother would ever hurt a woman or a child.  

 

But shes scared so I explain gently, "Well, we're gonna head that way now.  He probably just wanted to show tha kids our house.  So he took em that a way."

 

She doesn't look convinced and Merle scoffs at my gentle tone.  He knows what I'm doing and why.  But he knows Daryl would never hurt her or her daughter so he thinks she's stupid for worrying.  At least he doesn't snap at her.

 

"You can come with me," I offer her.  "I can show ya tha kitchen, it's awesome.  And I'm sure Sophia can tell us where everything is."

 

She shakes her head.  She understands what I'm offering.  She knows I'm really saying that I'll go with her and she won't be in danger.  Not that she ever was.  But she shakes her head.  Her worried eyes flitting from the house down the way back to me and Merle.

 

Rick follows us.  Michonne stays with the others, Glenn introducing her.   And I shoot Rick a warning look that he accepts easy enough.  With a nod, he acknowledges that he'll follow my lead.

 

Merle climbs in the driver's side of his truck so I slip across the seat to press against his side.  Rick stays close to the door, not tense but with a clear distance between us.  He probably thinks the brothers will lash out if he gets too close.  They may snap and snarl but they won't throw a punch unless they think you're a threat.

 

The RV is sitting in our driveway, almost on the grass.  So Merle backs up the truck until the tailgate is almost even with the door.  That way we can still get in and out of the RV if we need without moving the truck again.  Because it may take a while to get the generator hooked up and supper may come from the RVs kitchen.

 

The garage, a wide two car thing, is open with Daryl cutting meat at one of the folding tables.  He glances up dismissively but doesnt comment.  Hes tense, the knife coming down with harsh wacks.  Hes still mad.  

 

I slip out after Merle, stroking down his back as I move past him.  I don't touch Daryl.  Because while he will let me touch him some, and he communicates through touch too, there are times he won't allow it.  So instead I lean my hip against the table and compliment the successful hunt he had.

 

I glance over at the two babies babbling away in the playpen.  There's smears of red that I can see on both girls onesies but I know they're not hurt.  It was probably transfer from all the blood on his hands.  And when I give them a pointed look he shakes his head.  His way of telling me thst I don't have to take them.

 

Rick compliments his hunting. He glares up but nods, acknowledging the compliment.  So I ask where the kids are and he points to the door leading inside.  I offer a smile, a verbal thank you for moving the kids to our house.  Then I slip inside with Rick following cautiously.

 

I can hear two movies going.  One has singing which Sarah, Abigale, and Sophia are laying in front of watching.  On the other side of the room is Carl and Micah staring wide eyed at the sounds of explosions.  And Emmett and Evelyn are building block towers in the middle of the room.

 

They notice us quick enough.  I ask what the boys are watching.  Because it better not be anything scary.  Carl gives the reply of Transformers.  So okay, not too bad.

 

Micah And Emmett run over, hugging my legs.  Carl goes to his dad, asking how it went.  The others look up curiously but their attention, except Sophia, soon goes back to their movies and toys.

 

Rick answers with an edited version.  It made the whole thing sound much easier than it was.  But I understand him not wanting to scare the kids so I don't call him on it.  Merle or Daryl would.  They would say that the kids need the truth.  But I let it slide.

 

Then Rick is herding Carl and Sophia out the front door and away from the house.  Merle is outside, pulling up in another truck with a big silver grill in the back.  I didn't even know he had left but I'm not surprised he went off for a grill.  It looks like we're getting steaks tonight.

 

Merle sets up the grill in the front driveway.  And while Daryl finishes cutting up the meat, Merle grills steaks while drinking a beer.  Where in the world do they keep getting beer from?  I swear I don't know where they're hiding it but surely they'll run out soon. 

 

With the kids once more occupied, except for Emmett who follows at my heels, I head to the RV.  Not that I mind.  Emmett is a sweet helpful boy.  He's quiet, like Daryl, and it's adorable when he mimics him.  But he also likes to help when I'm cooking so I let him come with me.

 

Both brothers are drinking and Daryl is cleaning the table, wiping up all the blood with a bleach wipe.  So I'm not surprised when I see a few red smears on the deep freezer in the corner.  I already knew that was where he would put the extra.

 

I prepare a few sides for the steaks.  Mostly mashed potatoes, Mac and cheese, green beans, and corn.  The kids won't eat much of the steak so they'll get more vegetables.  Emmett helps me dump the cans into the pots.  And when it's time to stir the Mac and cheese I let him stir while I hold the bowl.

 

I don't ask Daryl what happened.  He'll tell me eventually.  And I'll wait for him to reach for me.  Because while Merle needs me to make the first move when he's upset, Daryl is the opposite.  Daryl needs to work up to touch so I need to wait until he's ready.   

 

I'm not worried though.  He's upset and offended but he's calming down.  So whatever happened must not be that bad.  The others just blew it all out of proportion because they don't know either brother.  And their bad handling made it all a little worse.  But it'll be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors notes
> 
>  
> 
> Hey guys😊
> 
>  
> 
> First I want to thank you all for the reviews and comments.  I love that others love the story too.  And there's a lot of questions so I thought I would answer a few.  Because some of it is planned for later and it will be a while for the answers to come and if you're impatient like me then you wanna know😆😆.
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> Not in any particular order but here goes.
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> 1\. Charlie was raised in a traditional Christian home so those are the main lessons she was taught growing up.  The lessons from her mother on being a good wife, mother, and staying organized is why she's doing so well leading the group.   But she wasnt taught about condoms or birth control or anything like that.  Even though Andrea mentioned it, she forgot about it after the argument and neither brother mentions it because they're waiting for her to decide what to do.
> 
>  
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> 2\. She will go back to the stores at the intersection.  She is ignoring it for a reason that she refuses to deal with, her attack.  She wants to avoid the intersection but she knows they need the supplies so she hasn't forgotten but she doesn't want to go yet.  Same reason she hasn't gotten a morning after pill.  But she will have a scare, stress and all.   And the brothers will be reminded that she is young.
> 
>  
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> 3\. Merle is damaged and so is Daryl.  They were both survivors before the world ended and they both have the scars to prove it.  The way I see it, if you're going to beat a person, a child, badly enough to leave scars then you will do other cruel things either yourself or through others.  Neither brother ever got help, or even knew help was out there.  And they both cope with it differently.
> 
>  
> 
> For Merle, he's loud and offensive but insecure and severely lacks people skills.  He can brawl with the best of them but the day to day interactions fail him.  And since he's so offensive I just don't see him having any lasting relationships.  So he probably only has drunken one night stands.  The only time he's around women consistently enough to attach himself to them are the strippers at the club or any women that comes around for Daryl.  So them sharing women is just them both having sex with the same woman but not together, because that would bring up issues they have.
> 
>  
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> 4\. Daryl is just as damaged as Merle but he adapted differently.  In the show, Daryl doesn't take a lover that we ever see.  So that tells me that he avoids that much intimacy.  He doesn't like being touched or looked at or for people to be near him.  That's where I get some of my theories on the reason why their behavior.
> 
>  
> 
> Now Merle taught Daryl to survive.  Merle was more of a father to Daryl than a brother in that way.  And Daryl knows why and how Merle is damaged.  He believes, just as Merle does, that no woman would put up with Merle's brand of offensive, borderline violent, tendencies.  So him sharing women was his way of trying to help Merle be more stable.  He wanted to make Merle happy he just doesn't know how.  And the women that would come around never thought much of either brother to begin with.  So neither brother cared much for the women.
> 
>  
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> 4\. I like Carol with Merle or Daryl but none of them are ready for that.  Merle is too loud for her and she's too skittish for him.  Daryl doesn't like to be touched and Carol needs reassurance.  In the show, she didn't get stronger until she lost her daughter.  I'm not killing Sophia but a close call will wake her up too.
> 
>  
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> 5\. Shane and Lori are alive.  You'll see later.
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> 6\. Yes the truck attacking Michonne was the governors men because in the comics she escapes from them.  And while many are dead, not all are.  Yes it will come back to bite them on the ass.
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> 7\. They will eventually set up protections but this is still the first summer after the infection spread.  They're all still on shock and finding their feet.  They will get there but it won't happen overnight.
> 
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> 8\. Duane is already dead by this point but we may see Morgan.  We will see the Greene's because I love Maggie with Glenn.  We will meet others, including original survivors.  And our little community will build up.
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> 9\. We will have more defenses come up but we need a scare to remind the others that the living are the bigger threat.  It will come though.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

 

Both brothers stay up late, sharpening stakes for the wall.  I get the kids settled in one room upstairs.  And two baby gates block the top of the stairs as well as halfway up.  They're the thick white plastic ones with zip tie like things attaching them to the banister.

 

I have no idea where the baby gates came from.  I can't remember them being at the store and the only house in this neighborhood to have furniture is the main house.  If I ask they will probably shrug it off as something they found.  Even though one or both probably went out of their way to get them.

 

I head out to the garage where the brothers are sitting.  There's a round metal fire pit with a small fire crackling away.  I don't ask where it came from because again, they won't deem it important.  And the light is low enough, and hidden enough, that it won't pose a threat.

 

Merle asks for another beer, Daryl nodding his order too.  And when I ask where they are kept both men point towards the RV.  I check the fridge, there are two packs barely cold.  There's another half pack in the freezer so I grab that out.  Then, just to be nosey, I look around to see how many more there are.

 

There's seven large cases stacked in the shower.  I want to ask because I know they weren't in there at the quarry.  But I don't remember messing with the shower after that so it probably came from the other RV.  But how is there still seven cases?  With how they drink them... how many did they originally have?

 

It causes a bit of a headache so I shake away the thought and take them each a beer.  I put the rest in the fridge and close the door behind myself.  They've both had more than enough.  I don't want them both grumbling in the morning so I'll just cut them off now.

 

I hand them each a beer and ask how much longer they're going to stay up.  Merle pulls me down to his lap, his hands a little rough from drinking but not intentionally so.  Daryl shrugs, unconcerned.  So I settle in for a little while.

 

"Got anymore plans for us, Darlin?" Merle asks, one hand squeezing my waist tight.

 

"Lots of plans but I still have to prioritize them," I admit. "We need to clear the grocers down the road. Leaving it there is just asking for trouble."

 

He squeezes me tighter for a moment and I take it as what it means. It's his offer of protection. His way of saying that he'll be with me and he won't let me down. I lay my head on his shoulder, feeling more tired than I should.

 

"We need furniture too, beds and chairs and stuff," I offer. "There's a few neighborhoods not far from here so I think we should start going through the houses, street by street, and bring back everything we can use or repurpose."

 

Merle hums, "Sounds like a plan ta me, Darlin."

 

"And I wanna check local farms for animals," I let out a huff. "We should probably get the animals before hitting the houses. But we will need the livestock to keep our people fed."

 

"Thought ya was wantin a garden," Merle offers.

 

"We do need a garden," I answer. "One vegetable per backyard for a good crop plus most of the open lots for animals. At least until we can extend our borders further out. But we need more people before we push past our walls."

 

Both blink at me, surprised. But both nod their agreement to the plan. And no doubt they will both keep a lookout for animals or supplies that we need. Which reminds me, "Did we get anything for catching wild animals alive?"

 

"Some stuff but not for nothin big," Daryl replies.

 

I hum, "We need to check some hunting stores, some sports stores, and any tractor supply stores we can find."

 

Daryl perks up at that, "I know where a tractor supply store is nearby. They had baby chickens and ducks a few months back. Some may still be alive."

 

"Can you lead us there?" I ask eagerly. "If we can get ducks and chickens, not to mention they will have garden supplies, animal feed, and hopefully generators too."

 

Merle let's my leg, "Looks like we know our next run, Darlin."

 

I'm already nodding, "I'll take the two of you as well as Rick and Glenn and T dog. Dale can keep the peace while we're gone. We can head out in the morning."

 

They finish their beers before the cans can get warm and try to prompt me to get another.  I shake my head, telling them, "Y'all done had enough.  Time for bed now."

 

"Ain't ya got enough younguns to be mindin?"  Merle scoffs. 

 

"If y'all gonna act like big kids I'll scold ya for not cleanin up proper," I answer back.

 

Merle laughs, louder than he should.  Daryl glares over, more at Merle than at me.  It occurs to me that he's not going to talk about it.  He's avoiding me, avoiding the intimacy of our bed, and he doesn't want me to know why.

 

Merle let's me up with a pat on my thigh.  Daryl won't look at me.  His glare now on the knife in his hand that he's striking the wooden limb with.  He's ignoring me.  And that hurts more than I expected.  

 

But he's not trying to hurt me, I don't think.  He's hurting.  Someone said or did something to really hurt him.  And he's ashamed that it worked.

 

I don't hover over him because that would make him defensive.  And I don't try to slide into his lap because he would push me away and I don't want that.  So instead I slip down, sitting beside his legs, and lean my head on his knee.

 

He freezes because he doesn't want touch now.  But he doesn't push me away either.  So I settle against him, watching the fire crackling away, and wait him out.

 

I wake to a hand on my hair.  I didn't mean to doze off but the crackling fire was hypnotic.  And with the warmth, the safety of being close to them both.  That's all my body needs now to fall asleep.

 

The fire is out now and it's colder.  There are stars but no moon so it's very dark.  The house will be worse.  But Merle is already standing and Daryl nudges me again to wake up.

 

Neither brother has any problem with the dark.  Both are used to navigating woods for days or even there own cabin when the electricity didn't get paid.  So I just follow between them and trust them to guide me along.

 

The master suite is on the first floor, behind the laundry room and garage but also jutting out into the back yard beyond where the wooden deck reaches.  The ten foot tall vaulted ceilings are silly to me but it's what most of these houses have.

 

I wonder if we can build up netted shelves to hold vegetables or something.  Maybe rig up pulley shelves so we can raise and drop them as we need.  It just seems such a waste to have so much room with no purpose.  I'll mention to the brothers.  No doubt they will have suggestions.

 

There's a pallet of blankets on the floor, big enough for us.  It's not the bed at the other house but it looks soft enough to do us for a while.  At least until we can get something better.  Like momma always said, 'homes are built over years even if families can come together in an instant'.

 

Merle lumbers forward to crawl onto one side with an exaggerated groan.  I almost laugh but a yawn escapes instead.  Daryl guides me forward, his hands on my hips.  He moves me down and we both crawl forward, him staying opposite Merle.  And I settle between them both.

 

They smell strongly of sweat, musk, and beer.  I can almost smell the blood still caked under Daryls fingernails and the gunpowder on Merle from all the shooting earlier.  And while these scents should be scary, they're not.  

 

I trust both men so their scents are a comfort for me.  Just as the duel deep breaths, and often loud snoring from Merle, are comfort for me.  I need them.  I need them both close just as they need me.  So I reach out for both.

 

Merle rolls onto his side, his arm going over my waist to pull me close.  But Daryl pulls back, shifting away.  I look over, barely able to see him up on his side watching me.  I hold my hand up, letting him see it.  And he does take my hand then.  But he doesn't move closer.

 

Merle is pushing himself more on top of me.  Not to hold me down.  But I think he's trying to shield me.  And he's watching Daryl too.  They're communicating again.  That way of talking they have where they don't say a word or even move a muscle.  But they know each other's minds so well that they have full conversations without anyone else aware.

 

Then Merle let's out a breath, pulling back to relax against me.  Tension drains from them both.  Whatever happened, whatever they communicated, it cleared the air more than all the beer they drank.  I'm relieved but I wish I understood what the problem was so I could be sure it doesn't happen again.  Still, I won't ask, I won't do that to them.  I'll let it go.

 

Merle is rubbing random patterns on my belly while still pressed close to my side.  Daryl still has a grip on my wrist which is held between us slightly above my head.  It's not the most comfortable but it doesn't hurt.  And I'm glad that at least he's still touching me.  It means that we'll be okay.

 

"Wanna talk ta ya," Daryl drawls.  

 

I glance over, unsure of the topic or even who hes talking to.  But Merle asks, "Ya sure?"

 

So the conversation is turning verbal now.  But I'm still lost as to the meaning.  Merle hums, tightening his grip on my hip and nodding decisively.

 

The scent of beer is stronger.  I almost feel like I could get drunk just from breathing in the air.  And some new tension is present.  Some new facit is shifting into place.  I feel a little behind.  Like I'm being asked a question but without any reference.  The answer is there, niggling at the back of my brain.  But I can't quite grasp it.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

 

I should probably be more worried than I am.  They're both drunk, but I trust them.  So I don't flinch away even if I'm confused about what's happening.  Merle is stroking lazy patterns on my stomach.  Daryl is still holding tightly to my wrist.  I get the feeling that I should be afraid... But I'm not.

 

I'm surprised when Daryl speaks first.  His voice soft in the blind darkness of the room, "Ya know why we share women?"

 

I had wondered.  I even think I have it figured out, a little at least.  But he doesn't wait for me to answer.  His voice whispers out like a sigh, "It's cause we ain't right.  Our heads ain't right.  And no woman ever cared much to learnin that."

 

I twist my wrist a little, shifting my arm to a more comfortable angle.  But I don't pull away.  I could, his grip loosened in case I want to.  But I trust them both so I stay.

 

"Is my fault," Merle whispers it like it's a confession.  "Folks don't like me.  I ain't right in tha head, I ain't.  And folks think Daryls tha same."

 

Daryls grip tightens and I know that it's an unconscious move.  He's angry at the people who talk about his brother.  He hates that people judge Merle when they don't know him.  Because to him, Merles family.  To him, Merle is the most important person in the world.  And Merle is the same with Daryl.  

 

"I try talkin ta ladies, I do," Merle confesses.  "But most walk away or roll they eyes or yell ta me ta get lost."

 

His hand is still rubbing soothing circles on my stomach.  It's more to sooth him than to sooth me.  He's drawing courage from the touch.  Without it he wouldn't be able to say all of this.  

 

I realize that I know why they're doing it like this.  I know why they waited until it got so dark.  I know why they didn't turn on the lantern even though we should have one.  I know why they're talking now when they must know I can't see them.

 

They're hiding.  It's childishly simple and yet startling in a way.  Because they are hiding, ashamed of this weakness.  The darkness is for them.  Just like all the drinking is for them.  That was to help them brave the conversation.

 

But this, what they're doing, is for me.  They know I'm at a disadvantage.  They're explaining themselves to me.  They're baring their bellies to me.  They're exposing this weakness, this shame.  They want me to understand, to know.

 

I'm more awake now.  The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of finally knowing their minds.  Yes, this won't be a good conversation.  But they're going to let me know their secrets.  Not all of them, of course not.  But they're willing to share this with me.

 

Merle's hand stills on my stomach.  Hes picked up on the change he just doesnt understand the cause.  And I dont want him to pull away.  I want to know, I want their trust.  So I trail my hand up his arm until I can cup his cheek.  He's hesitant, but he doesn't stop.  Rather, he leans into the touch.

 

"Growin up we wasn't much," he admits softly.  "No one wanted ta be round us Dixons.  Said we was dangerous.  Said we was wild an violent.  Didn't really have friends."

 

My heart clenched because I can see it.  I can see them, young and uncertain and alone in a crowd.  No one would touch them, talk to them.  They were the pariah no matter where they went.

 

"Our ol' man had a worse temper than us," he adds with a huff.  "He was always talkin with his fists or his belt.  Same ta momma as he was ta us.  Only reason I left fer basic and such was ta get away from em.  I'd of killed him if I had stayed.  Killed em later anyways."

 

I blink surprised at that.  It makes sense, their father beating them, abusing them.  It's painful because they didn't deserve it, no one does.  But he said it like it couldn't be any different.  He said it like all the other life truths he's learned.  And I hate that.

 

I slip my hand around his neck, pulling him closer, and say, "He had no damn right ta hurt neither of you!  If I had seen him I'd've given him a bullet myself!"

 

I wouldn't.  In the world before it would be wrong.  I couldn't have killed a man.  But now it's different.  And if I had seen him now as he was then, I could shoot him.   

 

I let that righteous fury fill my voice.  I let them know, in the tensing of my body, that I won't forgive him for hurting them.  I let them know that what he did was unforgivable.  And I feel it in them both when they hear it.

 

"You ain't perfect Merle," I offer gently, cupping his cheek.  "But there's nothing about you that's unlovable."

 

There's a gasp from both sides.  A sound of surprise that neither could suppress.  And there's something almost like a flinch, almost like withdrawal.  But I keep my hand on Merles cheek and I push my wrist against Daryls hand.  

 

They shouldn't be surprised at that but they are.  Have they ever had anyone tell them that they are loved?  Has anyone ever told them that they are appreciated?  Could they have really gone this long in life and not been told that they are good?

 

"You are both so smart, so clever," I tell them.  I let them hear the pride in my voice, "You, Merle, are a genius at fixing machines.  You built your bike from scrap metal.  And I know that truck and Dales RV are only running because of you."  

 

"You are an amazing teacher," I tell him, urging him to believe me.  "Ya taught me ta defend myself.  Ya try so hard ta teach others ta fight, ta be strong, even when they're too stubborn to understand what you're teaching them.  You are strong,  I feel so safe with ya.  And I trust ya to keep me safe, keep us safe."

 

"You're not perfect," I admit gently.  "You have a temper although I know ya would never hurt me or the kids.  But you don't have to be perfect for me to love ya.  I'll love ya anyways because I trust ya."

 

He lets out a gust of breath that hitches halfway through.  I don't call him on it.  We're in the dark for a reason.  We're here so truths can be laid bare without making them feel exposed.  But even in the dark, I see the shiver move through him.

 

I turn to Daryl, unwilling to leave him out of this.  So I push my wrist into his hand and say, "You, Daryl, are a damn good hunter.  Ain't a thing ya can't hunt or track."

 

His hand tightens but it's an unconscious move.  "You're clever," I praise, pride strong in my voice.  "Ya always lookin for ways ta keep us safe.  Ya always thinkin of what we may face and how ta keep us from danger.  Them spikes, the baby gates, I wouldn't' ve thought of that."

 

His hand shakes where it grips my wrist.  His grip is tighter, this side of hurting.  But all I have to do is twist my wrist a little and he'll let go.  But I'm not afraid so I don't dislodge his grip.

 

"Ya kind," I praise gently.  "I know ya don't think ya are but you're kind.  Ya'd both help a stranger an not ask nothin in return.  Most can't say that.  And neither of ya would hurt a woman or child.  That I know like I know tha world is round and tha sky is blue."

 

"I trust ya," I tell them sternly, almost daring them to argue.  "I trust ya both.  And... I love ya.  I love how ya touch me.  I love how ya both claimed me.  I love how ya talk an how ya smell and how ya try so hard ta keep us safe.  I love ya both."

 

Merle almost collapses against my side.  Shivering ripples over his body, overwhelmed perhaps.  Although I do feel wetness on my shoulder from where his face is pressed.  He's crying.  They really haven't heard this before, have they?

 

I want Merle to be happy.  I want them both to be happy.  And if sharing me is what they want then I'll agree.  Because it's not just wanting sex.  It's wanting a shared connection to someone.  It's having someone they both trust.  Someone willing to give them both a chance.  I can do that.

 

I slip my hand around Merle's neck again and pull gently.  He stills, uncertain.  But when I pull again he moves forward.  He won't deny me.  Even if I hurt him, he wouldn't push me away.  Because he wants so desperately to belong to someone, to have someone.  

 

But he's too afraid to do that without Daryls support.  He's not willing to risk loosing his brother.  Because they are the only constant that the other knows.  Everyone else has let them down except each other.  That's why it's important to them.  

 

They want someone who will help them be strong together not draw them apart.  That's why they want to share.  That's what all the hinting has been about.  They're stronger together and they will always choose each other so they want someone who will also choose the other.

 

I smile, proud of myself for realizing it.  Merle must see my smile because he hesitates.  Hes confused about what I want.  And he doesn't know if he has permission.  But I just lean up until I can press a kiss to his lips.

 

His lips are dry but not as cracked as Daryls are.  They're also fuller.  And he tastes like beer.  He breaths out, his lips parting.  So I suck his lip in.  

 

All I can taste is beer and steak sauce and cigarettes.  But it just tells me that it's Merle.  And I like how he smells, it makes me feel safe.  Because he's the only one I associate with those smells.  Just like Daryl is the only one with his scent.  

 

I relax back, resting my head.  He follows me down, his lips pressing to mine.  The kiss is more gentle than I expected from him.  For all that he's rude and vulgar, his kisses are hesitant and sweet.  It's easy to relax into his kiss.

 

Daryl squeezes my wrist.  I think for a moment that it's a reprimand.  But then his thumb rubs circles and I realize that he's saying thank you.  That makes me smile.

 

Merle leans back and even if it's too dark to see him I can still recognize the look.  It's the same look Daryl has, the same question.  I almost laugh.  But I won't laugh at them, not now, not like this.

 

I tug him closer and answer, "I love you, Merle Dixon, I trust you."

 

Daryl lets out a surprised sound.  Then he shifts his hand from holding my wrist to intertwining his fingers with mine.  I'm almost giddy with happiness and I must be grinning like a fool.  But I'm so glad that I can't help but smile.

 

I stroke his neck, his cheek.  And he leans in to kiss me, more passionately but still gentle.  His hand is stroking my side, soothing.  But he is careful not to press against me to much.  For being drunk, he has amazing control of himself.

 

"Touch her breasts," Daryl orders, his growling voice startling in the dark.

 

Merle obeys.  His hand slips under my shirt to cup at my breast.  His touch is still gentle, careful.  There's still a hesitancy that I didn't expect.  A gentleness that seems strange from such rough hands.

 

"Gonna take such good care of ya, Darlin," Merle breathes the words against my lips.  

 

A few minutes pass in gentle kisses and soft whispered promises.  Then Daryls voice sounds again, "Kiss her right."

 

Merle huffs a laugh, pulling away.  He and Daryl share an amused look that's visible even in the dark.  Neither will mention the weaknesses shown tonight.  Neither will mention any of this again, most likely.  

 

Daryl issuing orders is odd.  It feels like it's his way of being involved without interacting.  It's odd to be sure but exciting too.  And at least they're both relaxed now.  

 

With the heavy talks I was worried that the night would be spent facing ghosts or soothing fears.  But both have shrugged away the heavier thoughts and now move with a combined and amused focus.  

 

My pants are slipped down in a smooth yank.  I squeak at the sudden movement which earns a deep chuckle from both men.  

 

Daryl shifts closer, his arm slipping over my stomach, just below my breasts.  He's gripping me, holding me still.  It makes me nervous which they both pick up on.  And both of their movements still.

 

I huff a little, amused at them and myself.  "I trust ya both," I tell them.  "Love ya both too, just so ya know."

 

I do care about them.  I worry when they're gone and I only feel safe with them.  They are important to me.  And while being with them both is weird, I can accept it.  

 

Merle presses a kiss to each thigh, settling himself to lay between my legs.  Daryl presses biting kisses to my neck and shoulder.  His other hand squeezing my breast.  

 

There's too many things happening at once.  Too much to focus on.  I don't want to ignore either of them but I don't know how to pay them both attention.  

 

Daryl must realize the problem because he whispers in my ear, "Just breath, Darlin, we got ya.  Ya trust us so let us do this.  Ya ain't gotta do nothin tonight."

 

They're both drunk but their not clumsy.  They're relaxed but focused.  There's too many hands and too many mouths.  But I relax and let them move me how they want.  I trail hands over chests and down backs.  I stroke necks and arms.  I touch them both as much as I can.  

 

And while they are careful to not touch each other, they manage to move well together.  Merle kisses as if he could devour me from below.  Daryl bites and sucks at my neck and chest.  

 

Then Merle is crawling up my body, settling between my thighs.  He slides in easy.  And while he is large and strong, he keeps his movements slow.  He's careful not to hurt me.  Daryl slips away so I pull Merle close, kissing him.  He relaxes, growing more confident with his movements each time I encourage him.

 

My belly clenches and he comes with a curse.  Then he slips away to fall to my side, his hand wide on my belly, stroking.  I have that floaty lazy feeling that comes after so I relax, expecting sleep.  

 

Daryl slips over me to settle between my thighs.  I gasp aloud because I'm still sensitive, still shivering, and I wasn't expecting it.  But he slides in easy and begins moving.

 

I didn't expect it.  I won't complain though.  Both are amazing, affectionate now like this.  But I didn't expect Daryl to immediately take Merles place.  And I almost feel too sensitive for this.  But it's wonderful so I relax to their touches and let myself just feel.


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

 

Breakfast is later than normal, just cereal and boxed milk.  Then Daryl and I head over to the main house.  We have two runs planned for today.  Hopefully they will both go well.

 

I address the group, "Rick will lead one group to the grocers in town with Glenn, Amy, and Dale.  I want y'all to take one truck pulling a trailer.  Fill it with as much as you can.  Make two trips if you must but grab everything, including shelves if you can."

 

Rick nods back, accepting the responsibility for his group.  And Amy perks up proudly at being taken on a run.  It should be an easy one.  It's not far down the road and the last time we went through it was still clear.  But it won't be that way for long so it's best if we get started on it now.

 

"Daryl will lead the second group," I tell them, "with me, Merle, and Andrea..."

 

"No!" Daryl snaps out angrily, ice blue eyes glaring daggers at the blonde.

 

I blink in shock for a moment before realization hits.  She's the one to have him so upset yesterday.  She must've said something horrible for him to stay pissed so long.  And for him to be unwilling to take a run with her... yeah, he's still pissed.

 

"Okay," I call their attention back to myself.  "Glen will go with our group while Andrea goes with Ricks.  And if y'all have time for a third run, empty the pharmacy of everything in it."

 

Rick nods along although he does glance suspiciously between Daryl, who's still glaring pure hatred, and Andrea, who's smirking back.  He understands the shift in the group can escalate quick if it's allowed.  No doubt he will spend time trying to question Andrea and the others to understand what happened.  But I'm not worried.  Daryl will explain it to me if I need to know.

 

"T dog, you're on watch," he nods accepting.  "Carol, Sophia, Carl, you three are minding the children and starting the garden in the main house's front yard with ms Jackie."

 

The kids look back excitedly.  That's everyone except Michonne.  So I assign her to patrol the wall and make note of any weaknesses she notices or any security she thinks we should employ.  Her eyes light up excitedly at that.

 

Carol and the kids walk down to our house with us.  They're going to watch movies for a few hours before wrangling the little ones into helping in the garden.  And it will give Jackie time to get the yard prepped.  No doubt with T dog helping.

 

Merle climbs in the driver's seat while Daryl sits at the passenger door and I sit between them.  Our truck has the trailer reattached and Glenn will be driving the delivery truck.  

 

Rick's group heads out first with us following behind.  We follow until we reach the intersection.  They split off, driving around to the back of the store while we drive on ahead.  

 

It takes nearly an hour to reach the store.  Most of that time is us backtracking to avoid small herds, no more than fifty at most.  It makes me worry that the store will be overrun but we have to try.

 

The store itself is behind a tall iron fense.  There are several cursed hovering around the gates and even a few within the parking lot who are scratching at the main doors.  But it's no where near as many as we feared.

 

Me and Daryl slip out, taking out the seven dead nearest the gate.  It's an iron gate, the same kind as the fence, with a thick chain held together with a heavy lock.  Daryl brings over a large cutter to clip the lock open.  Merle and Glenn drive on in and we close and chain the gate back closed.

 

The few inside fall easy to Daryl's crossbow.  Then Merle sets to work getting us inside.  I should probably pay more attention to what he's doing but I trust him to get it done.  So I find us something to do so we don't just stand around.

 

The outside has several riding lawn mowers and some other riding machinery that i dont recognize.  There are several large grills and an entire metal cage full of propane drums that me, Daryl, and Glenn start loading up.  This fills up the back of our truck and with plenty of rope and a blue tarp we get it all loaded.

 

Merle finished before us and came over to help load and tie down the tanks and grills.  Then he and Daryl lead us inside.  The first set of doors open up with carts on one side and dog food on the other.  We ignore both and move through the second set of doors.

 

There is a large clothing section to the right and I make a mental note to go back to it if we have the time.  The left has a lot of decorative home accessories.  Immediately in front of us are three registers.

 

I grab up a few of the sturdier grey plastic bags, passing two to each, and tell them to clear a side.  There's mostly candy but some chips and jerky on each register.  We even clear out all of the sodas.

 

Glenn runs the bags outside to throw into the back of the delivery truck.  Then we move further.  The central aisles have toys, kids garden tools, and aprons.  The left aisles have cages, pet beds, dog toys, and a small fridge with animal medicine.

 

By this point we can hear them, nervous clucking and various quacks.  We find them in the far back.  Well over a hundred ducks and chickens are locked within a large caged area.  There is hay bedding and an unhealthy amount of droppings in there with them.  But the reason they are still alive is the remnants of feed bags that litter the cage.

 

Glenn gives an excited 'whoop!' and nearly jumps up and down like a kid at Christmas.  I order the others to come back a bit with me and grab all of the animal cages we can find.  Then it's the work of over an hour setting up the cages and catching the animals to fit in them.

 

We put some feed in each cage.  Then we stack the cages in the delivery van as high as we can.  There's more cages than there is room so the last two dozen are stacked three high in the trailer our truck is pulling.  Then we stuff bags of feed in the delivery truck above the cages as well as the trailer.

 

There isn't room for much more but miracle of miracles, we find another trailer that Merle rigs up to be pulled behind the delivery truck.  This way we can bring back even more supplies.  Then we go back inside.

 

I insist on grabbing all of the seeds, several shelve units where the pieces click into place and come unassembled.  Then I grab as many gardening tools and camping/hunting items that I can find.  

 

We gain a lot of lanterns, batteries, and camping gear.  There's also three compound bows, about a hundred arrows, a dozen rifles, several handguns, and a whole lot of ammo.  There are blow up beds, we grab them all, plus all of the sleeping bags and blankets that they have. And last we grab any and all food they have, which is only one aisle. There are several dried soup mixes with fancy logos and a lot of dried goods and bottled water.

 

We run out of room at that point and the guys are debating trying to find another vehicle but I tell them that we have enough.  I still wonder through the store twice more and fill three garbage bags with odds and ends that I shove onto the passenger seat of the delivery truck.  

 

The we head back home.  It was a good day, a good haul.  I can only hope the others did as well.  But either way, the live animals made the trip well worth it.  I give Daryl a kiss for bringing us here.  It really was a miracle that so many animals survived. He says they wouldn't have lasted much longer since there was only half a bag left in their cage. But thankfully, we got them in time.


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

 

We may have left the store in high spirits but we returned home with a heavy silence.  It's my fault.  It's all my stupid fault.  How could I have been so stubborn?  Why did I think it would go away if I ignored it?  

 

We're fine when we left the store.  We're all hyped up on success and talking about the chickens and ducks and where we can keep them and how we are going to build a huge roost for them from some of the cages we have.  Merle and Daryl both bragging that they can rig up something real good with the cages and one of the canopies.  

 

It was nice, exciting to plan it.  And I mentioned how excited our kids would be.  They can finally have jobs to do.  No doubt they will be over the moon at having pets and being big helpers.  And feeding them should be easy.  And Daryl mentions sewing egg pockets in some of the kid aprons we got since we grabbed about thirty of the things.

 

So yeah, we were riding high on our success.  But an innocent comment, just one little phrase, brought the good mood crashing down.  Oh, it wasn't intentional, no.  Merle was just trying to add to the bragging.  He was just counting off all the good.  

 

He said, puffed up and proud, "Just think a when ya all swollen and cravin fried chicken and me and Daryl can get ya fresh meat.  This here baby gonna be so happy growin strong in ya belly.  We gonna take such good care of ya both."

 

I froze.  Confused as all hell at first.  Because I'm not pregnant, I can't be.  Then I remember that I haven't had a period since being with them.  My last one came and went while locked in the church with my family.

 

I try to do the math.  It's not easy because my brain doesn't want to compute it.  But about a week after my period is when we lost the bus, our families.  Then there was three days with the brothers on the road.  Another week passed at the quarry.

 

I lost my virginity two and a half weeks after my period.  But my periods aren't regular.  They can sometimes be off by a week or so.  Which means I should've already had a period here.  Because we've been at our base, our safely walled home, for a week and a half, maybe two.  And I haven't had a period yet.

 

My chest is pounding and I can barely breathe.  I hear Merle mutter, 'Shit!', before a hand grips the back of my neck, forcing my head down.  Merles telling me to just breathe, just take slow breathes.  Daryl is saying numbers, demanding I repeat them.  But the numbers are out of order and I can't keep up.

 

I'm pregnant!  And what's worse... what really twist my stomach into knots... is it may not be Daryls.  Because that first run, so soon after we got here... that man attacked me.  And that means it could be from him.

 

I'm choking and sobbing and I can barely breathe and certainly can't explain.  The truck comes to a stop, both men backing off a little.  I have a moment of panic.  A moment where I think they're abandoning me.  And the sound that escapes me at this is a horribly painful sound.

 

But their hands are back and I'm turned and pulled and twisted until I'm laying flat across the bench seat on my stomach.  Merle climbs back over me, pressing me down but careful not to put too much pressure on my back.  He's holding me down but he's careful not to affect my breathing, even if I'm still gasping for breath.

 

Daryl is sitting in the floorboard, curled there somehow so his eyes are level with my own.  He's talking, slow and steady.  I don't catch half of the words but the tone is nice.  Merle is above my back, humming the lullibye that I sing to the children.  I can feel it vibrate in his chest and against my back.

 

Somehow it works.  I'm breathing better even if my head is pounding and my ears pop.  It's like my brain crashed and needed help to reboot.  And they were both quick to get me there.  Because I'm theirs as much as they are mine.

 

I'm more aware of the hot tacky feeling of the fake leather seat against my cheek and stomach.  I'm sweating so I'm sticking and it's not a good feeling.  The air is stuffy in here even though Daryls door is thrown wide open.  Merle is still humming, his one hand stroking up and down my side.

 

Daryl is explaining how they will build up the chicken coop.  He wants to have a central area for the birds to go but an outer walkway for us to get to the eggs without stepping over the chickens.  He mentions how the oldest girls, Abigale and Sarah, can be responsible for feeding them while Micah, Sophia, and Carl can be responsible for collecting eggs each morning.

 

My face is hot and my throat is dry.  So it takes a couple times before I can speak, "I forgot about Andreas warning."  

 

"I never had a reason to watch the dates and it's not unusual for me to be off by a week or so," I explain.  "So I just didn't think of it."

 

"S'alright now, Darlin," Merle croons,  "We got ya.  Whatever ya need us ta do, we got ya."

 

"I ain't ready," I confess.  "I aint ready for a baby.  I aint ready and we aint ready."

 

Daryl brushes fingers through my hair, eyeing me worriedly.  But he doesnt comment.  It's Merle that replies, "We'll get ya what ya need.  Ya ain't gotta have it.  We'll get ya what ya need."

 

There's pain is his voice just as strong as what's in Daryls eyes.  And I know this can lead to a misunderstanding.  So I try to explain, I need them to understand, "It ain't y'all.  If it was only one or both of ya I wouldn't think it wrong.  But that... thing... I can't if it's his, I just can't."

 

"Don't matter why, Darlin, we got ya and we'll get ya what ya need for this," Merle promises.  

 

"I love ya," I confess.  "I love ya both.  And I trust us both, I do.  But I'm scared.  I'm scared and I ain't ready.  Especially if it ain't yalls."

 

I'm crying again.  Fat tears scorching their way down my cheeks.  And both brothers are touching me, holding me, comforting me the only way they know how.  

 

I'm angry at myself.  Andrea warned me but I got so mad at her that it completely slipped my mind.  And I've done my level best to not think of what that man did to me.  But I still should've realized.

 

Hell, Merle brought it up in the shower at the police station.  Me told me how he would keep his hands on me the whole time.  And he has been extremely touchy with me for a while now.  But my stupid ass just didn't make the connection.

 

Glenn calls over the walkies that a few dead are getting close.  The brothers are reluctant.  Neither want to move me until I say I'm ready.  So I wiggle and push to sit up.  They have to help me because I feel weak and shaky all over, but we get settled in our seats.

 

It's still more than a half hour of driving to get us home.  So I lose myself in thought.  I try to think of what I would do if that... thing... hadn't happened.  What if the only option was it being a Dixon baby?  How would I feel then?  Would I still feel this panicked?

 

The answer calms me down better than anything else. "I would keep it," the words jump out of me so I explain.  "If it was just yours I would keep it.  I don't know what ta do.  I'm sorry I panicked.  I think I need ta know for sure.  I need a test.  We need ta make a stop."

 

Neither brother is happy but that's because they're worried.  Both keep shooting me concerned glances.  But they will follow my lead.  Because neither will force a woman to do anything.  They thought I accepted and wanted to keep it.  They didn't realize I just wasnt thinking about it.

 

I hate this intersection.  Every time we pass through it I feel like throwing up.  And I really hate that drug store.  I never want to set foot in it again.  

 

They tell me to wait in the truck.  Merle slaps a gun in my hand while Daryl presses the walkie into the other.  Then they're both hopping out.  I have a moment of relief.  A moment where I'm grateful that I don't have to go back in there.

 

"Grab everything ya can," I call after them.  "All the medicine and vitamins and test, everything."

 

Merle waves a hand, showing that he heard me.  Then they're both gone inside.  Minutes drag by at a painful slow crawl.  I can't sit still.  I keep jumping when there's nothing there.  And more than once I call Glenn on the walkie just to hear another voice.  He's still in the truck behind us but he doesn't question the extra stop.

 

They come back out, each carrying three huge trash bags full of stuff.  There wasn't much in the store so they probably did manage to fit everything in those six bags.  There isn't room on the trailers or in the trunk.  So I slip into the drivers seat and tell them to stuff them on the other side.

 

The passenger side is filled to burst so I slip out, directing Merle to drive and Daryl to ride on the roof.  We'll drive slower but he'll be fine up there.  Once Merle is in I slip into his lap, facing him so I can rest my head on his shoulder.  I ask if he can drive like this and he tells me yes.  So we set off for home.

 

I know he's upset, we all are.  But I need to be held now and he needs to hold me.  So I rest my head on his shoulder and watch the scenery go by.  We drive slow, he would never risk Daryl, so it takes a half hour before we reach the gates.

 

"I need ya, Merle, I need ya both," I whisper against his shoulder.  "I'm only seventeen.  I need ya."

 

He curses, as if he's forgotten how young I am.  But I continue, "I'm scared ta have a baby now when we ain't got no doctors or nothin.  I'm scared that somethin will go wrong, I don't wanna die."

 

He squeezes me tight, "We got ya, Darlin, ain't gonna let ya die.  You're ours and we protect what's ours.  We got enough kids ta be alright for a while, don'tcha worry none.  Well keep ya safe."

 

"I don't know why I'm in charge," I confess.  "I don't know why these people listen ta me.  I'm doin the best I can but it won't be enough.  I need ya and Daryl to help me.  I need ya advise, ya knowledge, ta help me make our home safe.  I need ya ta help me plan and lead and keep everyone alive through this mess.  Cause I don't have the faintest idea what I'm doin."

 

He squeezes me again, his hand stroking up and down my back while the other holds the wheel.  But he answered with a promise, "Yer ours, Darlin.  Whatever ya need, where ever ya go, me and Daryl will be right there with ya."


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

 

Merle radios Glenn to follow us over to our house.  The brothers want to build the chicken coop there, in our side yard.  So when we roll through the gate, instead of turning to go up the hill, we turn left and take the loop around road.  That way we pull up in front of our house.

 

The others are at the hill house, the main house, unloading a half full truck and trailer.  They must have gotten here about the time we reached the intersection.  And it looks like theyre moving slowly so this may be their second haul.

 

The door opens and Daryl is there, pulling me out.  I cling to him for a minute, needing the comfort.  He lets me.  But the moment Glenn gets close, he pulls away with an apologetic look.  I understand though so I don't call him on it.

 

Glenn asks what happened but Merle snaps for him to mind his business.  I tell them to start unloading the cages while I lay out the tarp on the road.  The birds can stay in the road until we get the coop built for them.  And we can put a canopy over them to keep them from getting too hot.

 

T dog, upon noticing the chickens being unloaded, gives an excited shout and nearly skips the rest of the way to us.  I ask how the other group did and he says their run went well.  But his attention keeps going back to the cages being unloaded on the tarp.  

 

I laugh and he joins in.  Then I ask if he wants wings or thighs.  Glenn shouts that he gets a breast piece which sets the other guys off with laughter.  Then I tell him we'll see come dinner time.

 

Once everything is emptied into the yard and road, T dog and Glenn drive the empty trucks back to the gate.  Merle and Daryl help me drag the bags inside the house and into the master suite.  They rip open the bags, spilling the contents, and soon enough there is a pregnancy test held out.  I vaguely remember that we had some before and I should've remembered that but I didn't.  

 

I slip into the bathroom with a glowing lantern and a pink box.  I read the instructions through twice just to be safe.  Then I take the test. But I can't wait here for two minutes with nothing to distract me so I head back out to the brothers.

 

They've made a pile in the corner of all the stuff from the drug store.  And there's a large pile in the living room of camping gear and stuff from the tractor store.  I notice the air mattresses that they're stacking up against the wall and tell them that I want one until we get a bed.

 

They grin and agree.  But looking over the supplies I see a problem.  "We need to use the hill house for supplies, watch, and meetings but we need to move most everyone out into other houses.  That way we can designate a bedroom in the main for different types of supplies. And each house can get a stock from the main house."

 

Going to the front window, I look out at the houses and add, "The master suite can hold the food since that's the biggest haul we have.  I want to get shelves in there as well as some netting up on the high ceiling to hold chips and snacks that won't sit on shelves well."

 

"We can do that, Darlin," Merle is quick to agree.

 

Hopefully the rest of the group does too.  "Jackie can be in charge of inventory so she can stay there, pick herself a room and her main responsibility will be keeping up with what we got, what we use, and what we need."

 

There are seven finished houses and two unfinished.  All will have tall ceilings and formal dining rooms as well as eat in kitchens.  So we can close in the dining rooms to make them bedrooms.  There may even be an office that can be turned into another bedroom.

 

"We'll put Rick, Carl, Sophia, and Carol in the house next to hill house," I offer absentmindedly.  "Andrea, Amy, and Dale can take the one across the street.  Glenn, T dog, and Michonne can take the one across from hill house.  That keeps them all in one area and we have other houses in case we get more people.  No use spreading ourselves too thin just to pull back later."

 

"Good idea, Darlin," Merle offers.  "An that a way them blondes don't go harassing ranger Rick too much."

 

Strong arms wrap around my waist.  I relax back, slightly surprised that it's Daryl instead of Merle because Daryl isn't big on holding people.  But he stays relaxed behind me, not just hugging and pulling away.

 

"I'm proud of ya both," I tell them.  "We wouldn't be here now without tha both of ya.  I love ya and I'm proud of ya."

 

Merle moves closer, standing at my side.  He doesn't ask, neither one does.  But I can feel the question.  So I answer, "It needs two minutes before it can give me an answer.  I didn't want to stand in there worrying."

 

Neither complains.  And when I turn to walk back to the bathroom they both follow slowly.  They dont want to crowd me but they don't leave me alone either.  They could've stayed in the other room but they follow, silently telling me that they are with me, that I'm not alone.

 

The test is still on the counter by the lantern.  It's no more than a thin plastic stick with a little oval window.  The instructions said that two lines mean it's positive, one line is negative.  

 

There is only one line. Negative... I'm not pregnant. I nearly slump in relief. I'm not pregnant.


End file.
